Sabbath Day Thoughts

No One Knows

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “No One Knows” Mark 13:24-37

Christians have been trying to determine the date of the second coming ever since the first coming.

Irenaeus, the second century Bishop of Lyon, was an influential leader of the early church.  He believed that the world was created 5,500 years before Christ, and creation would come to an end after 6,000 years. According to Irenaeus, the Son of Man would return with great power and glory in the year 500. He was wrong.

In the seventeenth century, the English mathematician, physicist, astronomer, alchemist, and theologian Sir Isaac Newton believed that the number “1260” had particular significance in the prophetic books of the Bible. Newton theorized that the world would come to an end in the year 2060; that’s 1,260 years after the creation of the Holy Roman Empire. Proponents of Newton’s theory abandoned his point of view in 1806 when the last Holy Roman Emperor, Francis II of the House of Habsburg-Lorraine, abdicated his title and released all Imperial states and officials from their oaths and obligations to the empire.

William Miller was a 19th century American Baptist minister. He proclaimed that the Lord would return on October 22, 1844. His teaching was wildly popular, launching a religious movement known as Millerism. When Miller’s world-ending prophecy failed, his followers called it the Great Disappointment. Hiram Edson, who would go on to establish the Seventh Day Adventist Church, said, “Our fondest hopes and expectations were blasted, and such a spirit of weeping came over us as I never experienced before… We wept, and wept, till the day dawn.”

Jesus warned his followers that “no one knows” when the fateful return of the Son of Man will come. Neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father knows. Bible scholars like to call today’s reading from the thirteenth chapter of Mark’s gospel the “Little Apocalypse.”  As Jesus spoke these scary words, he was surrounded by his disciples.  From the Mount of Olives, they looked across the Kidron Valley to the Holy City of Jerusalem and the splendor of the Temple.  Jesus anticipated the sack of the city and the destruction of the Holy of Holies by the Romans in just a few decades, during the Jewish Rebellion against the empire.  In a coming world that would feel like the heavens were falling and the very fabric of creation was coming apart at the seams, Jesus knew that his followers would need purpose and a long view of God’s work in the world if they were going to endure.

To guide his disciples through the dark days to come, Jesus told a parable. He described a wealthy landowner preparing to depart on a long journey. Before leaving, he entrusted the care of his property to his slaves, knowing that each would be busy with his work until the watchful doorkeeper heralded the master’s return. In the first century world of the Mediterranean, slaves were essential in managing estates.  Cleaning house, tending animals, working fields, preparing meals, nurturing children, keeping accounts, and producing wine and olive oil, all depended upon the work of slaves.  Slaves were considered a part of the landowner’s family. In fact, the Latin word for the extended household of landowners and slaves together was familias—family. The intimacy and affection of the familias is preserved to this day in the ruins of Pompeii, which was destroyed by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in the year seventy-nine.  There we can read the words of a prayer inscribed on the walls of a household shrine, asking God for the safe return of a beloved master from a journey.

When we consider that social and historical context of slaves, masters, and the familias, we see that in today’s reading, Jesus was characterizing himself as the landowner. His arrest and execution were imminent. Before the week was out, Jesus would be betrayed, convicted, tortured, and executed. Although Jesus would rise and promise to come again in glory, for the disciples it would feel as if Jesus had gone on a very long journey, with no end in sight. In the coming years of watching and waiting, Jesus hoped that his friends would continue to faithfully and conscientiously serve him.  Just as a familias anticipated a master’s impending return with loyalty and service, the disciples would need to keep the faith and keep up the good work.  He trusted his friends to preach the gospel, heal the sick, tend to the vulnerable, and pray always for his speedy return, saying, “Maranatha!”  Come soon, Lord!

Many of us struggle with today’s reading because it is apocalyptic in tone – there is a sense of the immediacy of the Day of Judgment and a nearness of the return of Jesus in glory. Let’s face it. Almost 2,000 years is a long wait. We’re not feeling especially vigilant this Advent. For most of us, we are pretty comfortable with the way things are here and now. We have three square meals a day. We have enough, maybe more than enough. We live in safety in a beautiful part of the world. It’s not a problem for us that the second coming seems to be slow in arriving.

That attitude shifts, though, when we stir some chaos and pain into the recipe of our lives. Just ask the Christians in Gaza and the West Bank. They are praying, “Come, Lord Jesus.” Just ask the neighbor whose spouse has died a few weeks before Christmas—they would like to tear open the heavens so that God might come down. Just ask the friend who is reeling with that unexpected, bleak diagnosis, she wouldn’t mind seeing the Son of Man coming in glory. While we wait for the Second Coming, there are plenty of little apocalypses. There is an abundance of those frightening and unwanted world-changing, life-threatening, perspective-altering events. Those little apocalypses leave us longing for the Lord to be here now.

The Rev. Tracy Daub, who wrote our book study for Advent Holy Disruption, reminds us that the world-changing work of the End Times has already begun. We saw it in Jesus, who showed us what it looks like to live with compassion, forgiveness, inclusion, and love. Jesus called for an essential reordering of our world, an in-breaking of God’s Kingdom, that is yet to be fully realized. That’s where we find ourselves, between the two Advents, the first and second coming. Our work as members of Jesus’ familias is to serve the Kingdom that is “already but not yet.”

What is the work that the Master would have us do in this waiting time? It looks a lot like what Jesus and his faithful servants did. It’s feeding the hungry and welcoming the outsider. It’s forgiving those who have wronged us and praying for those who feel short on hope. It’s sharing the good news with the everyday words and actions of our lives. It’s working for a world where Israelis and Palestinians break bread together. It’s inviting to supper that mournful neighbor who feels lost in grief. It’s holding the hand and walking alongside the friend who feels lousy. We live with bold hope and compassionate love. And if we are very faithful servants of the Master, this world may even sense the coming of the Son of Man as we work with hope and love amid the little apocalypses of our world.

Frank J. Tipler, who teaches math and physics at Tulane University, published a book in 2007 called The Physics of Christianity. In the first chapter, Tipler maintains that the Second Coming of Christ will occur within 50 years—by 2057. I suspect that Tipler, like Irenaeus, Sir Isaac Newton, and William Miller, will be proven wrong by the passage of time. After all, Jesus told us, we “do not know when the time will come.”

We do know that while we wait there is work to be done. Let’s get busy, my friends. Amen.

Resources

Buggs, Courtney.  “Commentary on Mark 13:24-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 29, 2020.  Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Daub, Tracy S. Holy Disruption: Discovering Advent in the Gospel of Mark, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002).

Siker, Judy Yates. “Exegetical Perspective on Mark 13:24-27” in Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol. 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008.

Sheldon, Natasha. “Roman Domestic Slavery” accessed online at Ancient History and Archaeology.com.

Mark 13:24-37

24“But in those days, after that suffering,

the sun will be darkened,and the moon will not give its light,
25and the stars will be falling from heaven,and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

26Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. 27Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

28“From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 29So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 30Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 31Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

32“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. 34It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. 35Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, 36or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. 37And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

Portrait of Sir Isaac Newton by Godfrey Kneller, 1702. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The Least of These

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Least of These” Matthew 25:31-46

Bob stopped typing. There it was again, an insistent knocking, down at the front door. It was Saturday morning. Marge and Paul had driven south for a weekend of Christmas shopping with her sister in Albany. Bob was working on his sermon, but he had deleted more than he had written. He pushed back his desk chair and ventured downstairs.

There on the doorstep was the short, round form of Junior Miller. Bob remembered the Christmas Eve that Junior had been born, more than twenty years ago, now. Bob had been called to the hospital to visit the newest member of his flock. Junior’s almond-shaped eyes and rosebud mouth confirmed what his parents had learned: Down Syndrome. But the boy had been a delight. Sure, he struggled with school. Sure, he took some bullying. But his kind nature was unstoppable. This morning, Junior looked extra round. A down jacket stretched across his belly, snow boots reached almost to his knees, a bright wool handknit hat and matching scarf and mittens were keeping out the cold.

“Why Junior! What brings you to my door so bright and early?”

Junior pulled down the scarf to free his mouth and leaned in, “Pastor Bob, I had a dream.”

Bob’s eyebrows shot up, like they do when he is intrigued. “A dream. You don’t say. You want to come in and tell me about it?”

Junior shook his head emphatically, no! “Pastor Bob! It was God, he said he was going to see me today. I don’t have time to visit with you.”

Bob nodded appreciatively. “Hmm. Well, where do you think you’ll find God?”

Junior pushed back his knit cap and looked up and down the street. “God didn’t say. Any ideas?”

Bob looked left and right. It had snowed a lot overnight. The plows had been out to clear the lane, but the trees were bowed beneath the wintry weight. Bob squinted against the snowy glare, “Well, Junior. I’m not sure where you’ll find Jesus, but I’m certain he’s out there. Be sure to send him my way. I could use some help with my sermon.”

Junior nodded, turned around, and marched off in search of Jesus.

Junior had only gone a few blocks when he saw old Mrs. Trombley. Every week she came to the dairy where Junior worked and bought the same thing:  a dozen eggs, a half-gallon of milk, and one of Mrs. Underhill’s freshly-baked bear claw pastries. This morning, Mrs. Trombly was shoveling snow. A wall of the white stuff had drifted against the back of her car. You could barely make out the bumper.

“Hi, Mrs. Trombly! It’s me, Junior.”

Mrs. Trombley leaned on her shovel to catch her breath. Her cheeks were bright red and she looked kind of sweaty. Junior hadn’t noticed before, but Mrs. Trombley seemed to be shrinking. Her back curved inside her old winter coat. She had to look up to see his face. “Why Junior, good morning! How do you like all this snow?”

Junior took her question seriously. “Pretty nice, I guess.”

Mrs. Trombley looked at the big drift behind her car. “Lots of work if you ask me. Burt always does this, but he had surgery last week. That means I’m on deck.”

Junior nodded. He really needed to get going if he was going to see Jesus, but he stopped. “Here, Mrs. Trombley. Give me that.” Junior took the snow shovel. It took a while to dig out the car and shovel the walk while Mrs. Trombley went back inside to tend Burt. Junior left the snow shovel next to the front door and hurried off to continue his search.

Outside the church, Junior saw Christine Lebowski. She had been the prettiest girl in his high school class. A cheerleader, too. She had married the captain of the football team, but Junior wasn’t invited to the wedding. In fact, Christine and her friends had sometimes made fun of Junior. They called him the ‘tard and poked fun at his round belly which, as a child, bore a striking resemblance to Winnie the Pooh’s.

Christine was pushing a stroller, the lightweight, folding kind that you use in the summer months. There was a chubby baby inside that was every bit as blonde and blue-eyed as Christine. The baby looked happy, but Christine did not. In fact, she looked like she had been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen. She had a soggy Kleenex clenched in one hand. Junior had never seen Christine cry.

Junior followed Christine into the church. There she turned right, into the food pantry. Junior really needed to look for Jesus, but the fact that Christine Lebowski was crying tugged at his tender heart. He watched out of the corner of his eye while Christine took the baby out of the stroller and strapped it across her chest into one of those Snugli carriers while the food pantry volunteers loaded up her stroller with bags of food. As Christine shoved the overloaded stroller over the threshold and back outside, Junior heard an alarming, “Crack!” The stroller collapsed, sending groceries everywhere. Christine was really crying now.

Junior stepped up. “Hey, Christine.”

The sad woman looked around, noticing for the first time that Junior was there. “Uh, Junior. Sorry, I’ve made a big mess.”

Junior bent down and gathered the groceries back into their shopping bags. The bags were heavy and Christine with her baby didn’t look like any match for the load.

“I can help.” Junior said. That made Christine cry even more. He walked them home. Junior was surprisingly strong from his work at the dairy, but even he had to stop a few times to rebalance the load.

 Along the way, Christine told him that she was alone now. Her husband said he didn’t want to be tied down with a baby. She was working at the Ron Dack Market when her Mom could watch the baby, but some months that just wasn’t enough. Junior just listened. At the door to her apartment, Christine said, “Gee, Junior. You are my knight in shining armor today.” This made Junior blush.

It was already early afternoon, but if Junior hurried, he could make it for the free lunch at the Good News Café. He arrived just as Tubby Mitchell was locking up.

“Junior!” the older man said, “You are my last customer today.” Tubby loaded up a plate with mashed potatoes, ham, green beans, and a generous slab of sheet cake.  Junior ate with gusto, telling Tubby between bites all about his dream.

“Have you seen Jesus, Tubby?” Junior wanted to know.

Tubby looked out the window with a far away look in his eyes and sighed. “You know, Junior, I see him most days.”

This amazed Junior. “Jeezum Crow, Tubby! Really?”

Tubby smiled sadly, “Yup. I think I served him lunch about twenty minutes ago. If you hurry, you might catch him.” He nodded up the street, toward the center of town.

Junior pushed most of his cake into his mouth then pulled on his down coat and woolen cap. Tubby wound Junior’s scarf around his short neck while Junior jammed his hands into his mittens. “Oh boy! Thanks, Tubby!” Junior shouted over his shoulder as he dashed off up the street.

But Junior didn’t see Jesus or God almighty or even an angel. Dejected, he sat on a bench at the busy intersection in the center of town. Junior watched every car and inspected every pedestrian, hoping for a glimpse of the Lord.

The only thing of interest was Hank Tebow, who was always interesting. In the summer months, Hank wielded a spray bottle of Windex and a squeegee to make some easy money by washing the windshields of tourists while they idled at the light. In winter months, Hank wore big insulated coveralls and mostly just watched what passed for traffic in the village. Some days were bad, and he would yell at the cars until the police moved him along. Other days, like today, Hank dispensed jokes, the kind a six-year-old might tell.

“Hey, Junior! Knock, knock!”

Junior generally like this kind of joke, “Who’s there?”

“Snow.”

“Snow who?”

“Snow use. I forgot my name again!”

Junior laughed, “Good one, Hank.”

Junior resumed his search for Jesus while Hank scrounged a few cigarette butts from the sidewalk and tried unsuccessfully to share his jokes with pedestrians hurrying past. Junior noticed that Hank didn’t have any gloves or mittens. His hands were stained with nicotine and his nails were grimy, like Junior’s after a morning of work with the animals at the dairy. Hank’s bald head was hatless and his wispy beard didn’t seem to offer much protection for his face. Already the shadows were getting long. Junior would go to his parents for dinner, but Hank would probably be out there for hours. Junior stood up. He unwound the scarf, pulled the hat from his head, and yanked off his mittens. He tugged his coat sleeves down to cover his bare hands.

“Hey, Hank!” He yelled, “Knock, knock!”

Delighted that someone would join him in a little fun, Hank hurried over, “Who’s there?”

“Tank.”

“Tank who?”

“You’re welcome!” Junior said as he pushed his warm knitwear into Hank’s hands. They did some more laughing and Junior left. It was starting to get dark as Junior walked to his parents’ house. He had seen plenty of people that day, but where was Jesus?

The next morning, Junior arrived early at church. He knocked on Pastor Bob’s study door, then let himself in. He took a dejected seat on the couch. Bob stopped what he was doing.

“So, how did the Jesus hunt go, Junior?”

“Not so good.” Looking disappointed, Junior told Bob all about his day.

Bob listened and then chose his words carefully, “You know, Junior, I suspect that you saw plenty of Jesus yesterday.”

“Huh?”

“And Junior, I suspect that all those people you helped, they saw Jesus, too.”

Junior’s brow creased in concentration. “I need to think about that,” he said, rising from his seat and venturing out into the hallway.

At the door, Junior turned back, “How about you, Pastor Bob? Did Jesus help you with your sermon?”

Bob laughed, “Well, he sent his Holy Spirit to help me out. I expect we’ll do just fine.”

While Bob finished up his prayers of the people, Junior Miller found a quiet place to think.

This story was inspired by Leo Tolstoy’s classic work of short fiction, “Where Love Is, There God Is Also.”

Matthew 25:31-46

31“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. 32All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, 33and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. 34Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 35for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ 37Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? 38And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ 40And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ 41Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; 42for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ 44Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ 45Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ 46And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

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Blessed and Entrusted

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Blessed and Entrusted” Matthew 25:14-30

You’ll find Rupert tending the huge outdoor grill for his church’s annual chicken barbeque. His preparations start weeks in advance. He gathers ingredients for his secret sauce. He procures the mesquite chips that get soaked and sprinkled on the coals to impart that special smoky flavor. He makes the big run to Sam’s Club for all that chicken. Folks are so glad that Rupert shares his talent that, on the day of the barbeque, they line up around the block. The chicken always sells out. It’s his church’s biggest mission fund raiser of the year.

Sharon is the Field Marshall of her church’s annual Christmas Bazaar. Her talents for organization and communication are impressive. She contacts all the crafters months in advance to ensure there will be a beautiful selection of handmade goods. She sees to it that the men’s group cuts greens and makes beautiful evergreen wreaths to sell. She gets the bakers baking a bounty of Christmas cookies, brewing coffee, and making cocoa for the snack table. On the day of the Bazaar, Sharon has volunteers lined up from early to late. Every year, people say it can’t get any better, but somehow with Sharon’s leadership, it does.

Sam is his church’s most faithful servant. Now that he is retired, he rises early every Tuesday, eats his breakfast, and heads down to the church office to put his handyman talents to work. There, the secretary hands him a list of things that need his attention: lightbulb in the fellowship hall needs changing, toilet in the men’s bathroom needs plunging, grass could use mowing. Sam takes his list and gets busy. You can hear him whistling around the church as he tends to his “honey-dos.” At lunchtime, he walks home with a pleased smile, eats a big bowl of soup, and takes a nap.

Every church has them—good and faithful servants who get busy, sharing their talents to serve the Lord and bless the rest of us.

Our gospel lesson today has long been called the Parable of the Talents. In Jesus’s story, three servants were “entrusted” with talents. In the first century, a talent was a great weight of silver, between seventy-five and ninety pounds. A single talent was equivalent to twenty year’s wages for a day laborer. The first slave received 100 years’ wages in one lump sum, the second slave 40 years’ wages.  Even the last and least able slave received great wealth, 20 years’ pay dropped in his lap. This tremendous windfall was entrusted without instructions or supervision.

The Greek word translated here as entrusted, paradidomai, has a couple of meanings.  Paradidomai means to hand something over, to make a gift of something valuable.  But paradidomai is also used to describe how a rabbi hands down a teaching tradition, a sort of passing the torch of spiritual authority to disciples. Back when this story was first told, Jesus was entrusting his ministry to his disciples.

In the long history of interpretation of this parable, the word talent has taken on new meaning. John Chrysostum, the fourth century Bishop of Constantinople was the first to suggest that the talents of the parable are gifts and abilities. Each of us is blessed with unique and precious capabilities that bring us joy and bless others, like the real-life examples that I gave at the start of my message—Rupert the grill master, Sharon the majordomo, and Sam the handyman. Chrysostum’s interpretation of this parable has been so influential over the centuries that the common understanding of “talent’ no longer means a great weight of silver. It means our God-given and self-developed potential.

In Jesus’s story, two servants found purpose in their gift. They traded and took risks to increase what they had been given. Perhaps one bought a small flock and shrewdly shepherded, bred, and traded his sheep and goats, until he was rich with animals, wool, and meat. Perhaps the other purchased a small vineyard. He grew grapes, dried raisins, and made the finest wine that was in the greatest of demand. The slaves were blessed by the undertaking, filled with satisfaction and delight in their accomplishment. They were eager to share their incredible success when the Master returned.

I think we can all share stories of the blessing we experience when our God-given gifts are developed to their fullest potential and used in ways that bring goodness to the lives of others. I know that Rupert the grill master felt that the annual chicken barbeque was the highlight of his summer. Sharon the Field Marshall of the Christmas Bazaar rejoiced mightily every time the sale set a new record in raising funds for mission. Sam the Handyman sensed that he had found real satisfaction in retirement by keeping things running smoothly at church so that folks could show up on Sunday morning and be blessed.

For the third servant of the parable, it was a different story. He responded to the Master’s gift with fear, as if it were a big unwanted burden – more curse than blessing. We can imagine Jesus telling the long version of the parable. The slave waited for the cover of darkness and then lugged that great weight of silver to an unlikely place, quietly dug a pit, and buried it deep. After that, he lived every day of the long waiting time in worry and anxiety, always looking over his shoulder. Would someone steal the treasure? Was today the day when the Master would return? When the Master finally appeared, the third slave was filled with resentment. First, he insulted his Master, then he handed off the talent like it was a hot potato. Good riddance! There was no blessing for the third slave in the talent, no blessing in the waiting, and no blessing in the Master. His rejection of opportunity, his rejection of blessing, left him banished to the outer darkness.

It’s important to remember that Jesus was using hyperbole – a rhetoric of exaggeration —to make a point about the necessity for disciples to continue the ministry that he was entrusting to them. The dramatic description of the third slave wailing and languishing in the outer darkness reminded Jesus’s friends that although there would be fear and danger in the wake of his crucifixion, there could be blessing. If only they simply kept working, kept sharing, kept the faith, they would find joy for themselves and others.

If we set aside the scary hyperbole for a moment, we can see that this story is about trust, blessing, potential, and joy. Church folk tend to be a talented lot. Some have the prodigious gift of music. Others have the knack for building and fixing things. Some are wonderful cooks. Some are wonderfully caring or gifted in the offering of prayer. Some are natural leaders, while others are great followers and worker bees. We may not have the grilling gifts of Rupert or the organizational prowess of Sharon or the fix-it ingenuity of Sam, but we are each uniquely entrusted with abilities and qualities that make us the people we are. So much potential! Those talents are God-given and made for sharing. God doesn’t give us a checklist of missions to be accomplished, but the Lord trusts that we will be busy in his purpose.

Here’s the delightful truth of the parable. When we sing in the choir or share special music, it’s a blessing! When we put on our apron and fire up the oven for the bake sale, it’s a blessing. When we share our teaching gifts with the kids, it’s a blessing! When we share our caring gifts as a deacon, our devotional gifts on the prayer chain, or our knack for compassion at the Food Pantry, what is it? A blessing! When talented people get busy, the blessings abound. It’s a blessing for us and it’s a blessing to others. Praise the Lord for those talented Presbyterians!

The exclamation point of this parable is the Master’s joy. Jesus’s story suggests that when faithful disciples use their talents to get busy in God’s purpose, God finds delight. We put a smile on the face of the Great Almighty. Heaven breaks forth with the sound of rejoicing. Even better, when we are blessed by using our gifts—and others are blessed by us—then we are welcomed with praise into the joy of the Master. “Well done, good and faithful servants!” You might even say, that when talents are plied and blessing abounds, our world begins to look and feel like God’s Kingdom where the joy will never end. Don’t we want to be a part of that joy?

Every church has them—good and faithful servants who get busy, sharing their talents to serve the Lord and bless the rest of us. The Ruperts. The Sharons. The Sams. People like us! May we use our talents wisely. And may the Master’s joy abound!

Resources:

Carla Works. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 13, 2011. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

David Schnasa Jacobsen. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 19, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Dirk G. Lange. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 16, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Greg Carey. “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 16, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Matthew 25:14-30

14“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; 15to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. 17In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. 18But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. 20Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ 21His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ 22And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ 23His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ 24Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; 25so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ 26But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? 27Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return, I would have received what was my own with interest. 28So take the talent from him and give it to the one with the ten talents. 29For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. 30As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

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Lamps Lit

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Lamps Lit” Matthew 25:1-13

We don’t like to wait. It can make us feel grouchy, frustrated, annoyed, and bored. Americans spend an average of thirty-two minutes waiting at the doctor’s office, twenty-eight minutes waiting at airport security, and twenty-one minutes waiting for our significant other to get ready to go out. All that waiting adds up. As a nation, Americans spend thirty-seven billion hours waiting in line each year. The bad news is that New York state has the longest waiting times in the country. A survey of twenty-five New York communities found that our average wait time in stores is six minutes and fifty-one seconds. That sounds about right. The worse news is that our patience is growing shorter as digital technology, like smart phones and on-demand streaming services, lead us to expect instant gratification. The average person grows frustrated after waiting sixteen seconds for a webpage to load or twenty-five seconds for a traffic signal to change. Does any of this sound familiar?

Our gospel reading today reveals that the struggle to wait isn’t limited to twenty-first century New York. Jesus told this parable of the Ten Bridesmaids to his disciples as they gathered one evening on the Mt. of Olives, overlooking Jerusalem.  It was the final week of Jesus’ earthly life.  Powerful enemies in Jerusalem were conspiring to bring about his arrest and execution.  Jesus knew what awaited him at the end of the week, even if his friends were unwilling to accept it.  And so, he told a story of a wedding banquet too long in coming and bridesmaids who missed out on the celebration.

In Jesus’s day, when a young girl reached marriageable age, her parents would seek an appropriate bridegroom.  First, a contract, stating terms of the dowry, would be agreed upon.  Then, at the end of a year-long engagement, the bridegroom would collect his bride, paying her parents the bride price and bringing his new wife home to the house of his father.  On the blessed night of the wedding, bridesmaids waited at the father’s house.  With lamps lit, they would go forth singing and rejoicing, leading the couple to the marriage tent, where their wedding vows would be consecrated.  After the wedding, a festive weeklong party began.

In Jesus’ story, the wedding party didn’t go according to plan. The groom was delayed. As the long hours dragged on after dark and the bridesmaids waited, they fell asleep and their lamps burned low.  When the shout at last went up, “The bridegroom is near!”, the maids rose to tend their flames, but only half the girls had anticipated the wait and brought extra oil.  While five maids went out with glowing lamps to rejoice with the wedding party, the others ran off to bang on the door of the local oil merchant.  When they returned to the father’s house, it was too late. The door was closed and there would be no late entries.

This is not my favorite parable. For one thing, it takes a lot of explaining. For another, I’d like to soften its sharp edges.  Let there be a super-abundance of oil to share.  Let the bridegroom throw open the doors and welcome the latecomers to the party. But Jesus knew that his story required sharp and uncomfortable edges to get our attention. We can bet that every disciple who listened to Jesus on the Mt. of Olives sat up straight and opened their ears.

In Jesus’ day, the wedding feast was a common metaphor for the beautiful feast of the Kingdom of God that would come at the end times.  Jesus’s friends knew Jesus was the bridegroom, the Messiah, sent to usher in a new age of righteousness and holy living.  But there would be no wedding feast that week.  Instead of a wedding procession of joyful bridesmaids with lamps aglow, there would be a funeral procession.  Jesus, beaten, bloody, and broken, would be paraded through the streets to his brutal execution.

Jesus hoped that his friends would live with a sense of urgent patience, even after he would be taken from them. God’s Kingdom would come, even after long delay. Jesus hoped his friends would live like those five wise bridesmaids, well-equipped and ready to serve, even if the shout went up at midnight. The disciples, who listened to Jesus and looked out across the Kidron Valley to the holy city, glowing with the light of thousands of household lamps, would have heard Jesus’ story as a bold exhortation to wait with patience and vigilance through the long years to come.

One of the great challenges of preaching this parable is that people like us don’t have a sense of expectant urgency when it comes to Judgment Day. We leave that to the evangelicals, and even they don’t do it very well. We don’t wake up each morning, wondering if this is it, if the Lord will come in glory. We struggle to have a teaching like this feel relevant and useful for faithful living. We don’t like to wait six minutes and fifty-one seconds at the grocery. We can’t be bothered to waste our time looking at the apocalyptic clock, waiting for it to strike midnight.

But what if this parable isn’t just about Judgment Day? After all, in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus begins his ministry with the warning that the Kingdom of Heaven has come near. Professor Dirk Lange, who serves as assistant general secretary at the Lutheran World Federation, teaches that Jesus’s return is a “now” event. Let me explain. The appearance of the risen Lord on the Emmaus Road was a true experience of Christ’s return. Our monthly celebration of the Lord’s Supper is an ongoing wedding banquet with Jesus at the table. The vulnerable people whom we encounter—Jesus called them the least of these, his little brothers and sisters—they are an ongoing revelation of the Jesus who walks among us, inviting our compassion and help. Perhaps the question for our faithful waiting isn’t, “Is this the Day of Judgement?” Our question is better phrased, “How will I see Jesus today? Will I be ready to serve him? Will my lamp be lit?”

I’m going to suggest three ways that we can keep our lamps lit in this waiting time. Are you ready?

We begin by spending daily time with Jesus. We place him at the center of our lives with a faithful pattern of prayer and devotion. We deepen our understanding through reading scripture and spiritual writing. We praise him through worship and song. Those daily attentions in this waiting time assure us that the Lord is always with us, if only we will attend.

We can also take the time to see the Jesus who is revealed in vulnerability in the world around us. We see him at the Food Pantry picking up his monthly box. She awaits our visit in the corridors of assisted living and nursing homes.  He’s learning about Jesus in Sunday School.  She looks out her window and watches us head to church, wondering if we will ever invite her to join us. The bridegroom is near if we will only have eyes to see him.

Jesus’s parable suggests that it is not enough for us to patiently wait. We also need to be prepared for action. The wise bridesmaids heard the cry and leapt up to trim their wicks, fill their lamps, and greet the bridegroom. Will we shine our light before others (Mt. 5:16)? Carla Works, a New Testament scholar at Wesley Theological Seminary, says that, “To live in vigilance means for disciples to do the tasks that they have been appointed in preparation for the Master’s coming.” We know what we are called to do, but will we do it? Will we feed hungry people? Will we visit those who need our love? Will we teach Sunday School? Will we invite a friend or neighbor to church? Are our lamps lit? How will we greet the bridegroom?

I suspect that even if we heed Jesus’s difficult teaching, we still won’t like waiting. We’ll still grow grouchy, frustrated, annoyed, and bored as we wait in line at the grocery store. That’s because researchers say that the human attention span is a whopping eight seconds, one second shorter than that of a goldfish. But our waiting can be transformed as we pray for others and take time to attend to the hidden Jesus who walks among us still. Perhaps this world can look a little more like the promised Kingdom of Heaven if we keep our lamps lit and shine that light before others.

Resources

“How Much Time of an Average Life Is Spent Waiting?” in Reference, Science and Technology, April 3, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.reference.com/science-technology/much-time-average-life-spent-waiting-7b315c05172d2b4d

John Anderer. “Hurry up! Modern patience thresholds lower than ever before, technology to blame” in Study Finds, Sept. 3, 2019. Accessed online at https://studyfinds.org/hurry-up-modern-patience-thresholds-lower-than-ever-before-survey-finds/

Carla Works, “Commentary on Matthew 25:1-13” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 6, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Dirk Lange, “Commentary on Matthew 25:1-13” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 9, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org. Greg Carey, “Commentary on Matthew 25:1-13” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 9, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Matthew 25:1-13

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. 2Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. 3When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; 4but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. 5As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. 6But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ 7Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. 8The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ 9But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ 10And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. 11Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ 12But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ 13Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

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The Great Multitude

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Great Multitude” Rev. 7:9-17

When our neighbors at St. Bernard’s talk about saints, they point to people of exceptional piety, heroes of the faith who have been martyred, worked miracles, or had singular spiritual experiences. The process of becoming a Catholic saint is lengthy. First, a local bishop investigates the candidate’s life and writings for evidence of heroic virtue. Then the findings are sent to the Vatican. There, a panel of theologians and the cardinals evaluate the evidence. If the panel approves, the pope proclaims that the candidate is venerable, a role model of Catholic virtues. If the person is responsible for a posthumous miracle, then the saint is beatified—honored as holy by a particular group or region. In order for someone to be considered a true saint and canonized, there must be proof of at least one more posthumous miracle- the healing of a pilgrim at the grave site, a mass vision, a statue weeping. Canonized saints are the center of worship, devotion, and prayer, like praying to St. Anthony to help you recover your lost car keys.

We don’t share this understanding of saints in our tradition. Since the Reformation of the 16th century, we have insisted that God alone must be the focus of our worship, devotion, and prayer. By studying the use of the title “saint” in scripture, Martin Luther pointed out that the true meaning of “saint” had nothing to do with exceptional piety. Instead, it was all about faith. When the Apostle Paul wrote to his church in Philippi, he greeted the “saints,” all members—men, women, youth, children, both slaves and freeborn. All were holy, not because of their impressive spiritual accomplishments, but by their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 

On All Saints Sunday, we take time to remember and celebrate this beautiful, broad understanding of the great multitude of faithful people, who, having lived their lives in faith, now live eternally with God. We are especially mindful of those saints whom we have lost in the past year, like our friends Jean Fitzgerald and Henry Schwalenstocker. But we also bring to mind those sainted people who have made a quiet and faithful difference in our lives: the parents who introduced us to Jesus, the mentors who called us to fully utilize our God-given gifts, the caregivers who prayed for us when we could not pray for ourselves. These saints will never attract the notice of a panel of theologians and cardinals, but they worked gentle goodness in our lives that blesses us to this day.

In today’s reading from the Book of Revelation, John of Patmos described his apocalyptic vision of the heavenly throne room, where God and the Lamb were ceaselessly praised and glorified.  Before the throne, worshipers of every land, language, nation, race, time, and place were assembled, a great and countless multitude. All were clothed in robes of dazzling white.  All rejoiced, waving palm fronds in victory.  All joined their voices with the heavenly host to proclaim, “Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever!  Amen.”  Can we imagine it?

John says that God “sheltered” those who worshipped.  The Greek word for shelter skenosei means to stretch a protective covering over something, like a roof keeping out the weather, or a tent protecting us from a summer storm, or the wings of a mama bird shielding her chicks.  Those who worship are safe. They hunger and thirst no more.  With the Lamb as their shepherd, the vast flock is guided to the waters of life.  Every sorrow comes to an end; every tear is tenderly dried.  The great multitude has found shelter, nurture, guidance, life, and comfort with God.

I’m sure that, among the saints who worshipped before the throne, John of Patmos saw people of remarkable spiritual accomplishment like those canonized saints, but John’s vision would have largely comprised little-known saints, like the beloved ones, mentors, friends, and caregivers who have had such a powerful, positive impact upon our lives. Those who rejoiced before the throne may have been a lot like us: everyday saints, who faithfully worship God, trust in our Good Shepherd, and leave a legacy of faith for the generations to come.

This church has had many such saints. Their photos are not hanging in the gallery of pastors in the hallway. They don’t have a plaque on the pipe organ or bell tower. But they faithfully shared themselves in ways that made a difference in the life of this church and the unique history of Saranac Lake.

Among our first members were Emma and Theodore Hanmer. As newlyweds, they came to Saranac Lake in 1889 from Black Brook, where Ted had driven a stagecoach and apprenticed as a boat builder. It didn’t take long for him to move past apprentice to master boat builder with his own workshop on Lake Street, where he specialized in crafting guide boats. Ted’s boats weighed about 80 pounds, yet they could safely carry a load of a half-ton, including three people. One of Ted’s handcrafted boats sold for about $65 in 1900. Today they are priceless. Neither Ted nor Emma ever served as an elder or a deacon, but they worshipped weekly and raised eight children in the church. If you ask me, that’s a remarkable accomplishment.

Another early member of the church, whom you’ll never hear celebrated by local historians, is Edmund Horton. He became our fourth elder in 1902. Ed had a gift for growing things. In 1903, he opened Horton’s Greenhouses and Florist Shop at the present site of Nona Fina Restaurant. A vintage ad in the Adirondack Daily Enterprise has some snappy copy to promote Ed’s plants and creations. It reads, “What better gift than flowers? They’ll return a little care with gorgeous blooms. . .  give someone a living gift of flowers. Every glance at them will be a reminder of your thoughtfulness.” Early pictures of the sanctuary, beautifully decked out with poinsettias, ferns, Easter lilies, and big bouquets, reflect the talents of Ed Horton, a legacy that we celebrate every time we take a bouquet of flowers to someone who needs a little extra love.

You’ve probably never heard of longtime members Florence and Arthur Utting. They lived and worked for many years in the Spaulding Block, an impressive three-story brick building that stood at the corner of River and Main Streets, where the Verizon store is now located. Arthur ran a grocery store on the first floor and Florence had a vanity store right next door. She sold “fancy goods, crockery, and stationary.” In the church’s early days, the Board of Trustees may have been charged with the oversight of our church building, but it was often the Women’s League that did the work of care, cleaning, and improvements. When the church coffers were empty in 1902, it was Florence Utting who came up with $100 to buy new carpeting, paint the walls, and repair the seats. Thank you, Florence!

As I finish this message, I’d like to lead us in a brief reflection about how we might share our time, talents, and treasure with the church, in keeping with the legacy of those quiet saints who have made a difference. Like those faithful ones I have just described—and like the saints in John’s vision, we have found shelter in God. We have claimed the Lord as our shepherd. We trust that we, too, will one day celebrate in that far brighter light on that far better shore.

Let’s begin with thinking about our time. Perhaps, like the Hanmers, we’ll commit ourselves to weekly worship and prayer. We’ll bring our kids to Sunday School. We’ll show up for Bible Studies. We’ll frequent potlucks. We’ll come out for movie nights. We’ll shovel snow or mow the lawn. We’ll do those everyday tasks that sometimes go unnoticed. What will sharing your time look like?

How will we share our talents? Perhaps, like Ed Horton, we’ll serve as an elder. Maybe we’ll exercise our green thumbs with landscaping in the churchyard or growing vegetables in the church garden. Our love for worship and our gifts for order may lead us to serve as a Sanctus volunteer, ensuring that the church is ready for Sunday mornings. We could share gifts of caring as deacons, express our love for children as Sunday School teachers or Youth Group leaders, or bless the church with music in the choir. What will sharing your talents look like?

How will we share our treasure? Today we’ll submit pledges to support the church’s operating budget. We may also choose to follow the example of Florence Utting and provide financial resources for building projects. We could consider a memorial gift in honor of a beloved one. We may even think about a legacy, including the church in our financial planning to bless the generations to come. What will sharing our treasure look like?

On All Saints Sunday, we celebrate the great multitude that rejoices before the heavenly throne, people like Emma and Ted Hanmer, Ed Horton, and Florence and Arthur Utting. Unsung heroes, they shared their time, talents, and treasure to serve God and bless this church. This Sunday, we choose how we will also share of ourselves in gratitude for the shelter we have found in the Good Shepherd. We will most likely never be canonized, and yet there is a place for us before the throne, to rejoice amid the great multitude. May it be so. Amen.

Resources:

“Resident of Saranac Lake Is Only Remaining Builder of Adirondack Guide Boat.” Adirondack Daily Enterprise, June 24, 1935.

“Old Adirondacker of Guide Boat Fame Dies.” Adirondack Daily Enterprise, April 19, 1957.

Evelyn Outcalt and Judy Kratts. “A History of the First Presbyterian Church of Saranac Lake,” July 25, 1990.

Anna M.V. Bowden. “Commentary on Rev. 7:9-17” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 5, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Micah D. Kiel. “Commentary on Rev. 7:9-17” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 5, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Walter F. Taylor, Jr. “Commentary on Rev. 7:9-17” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 2, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Revelation 7:9-17

9After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. 10They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” 11And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12singing, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” 13Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” 14I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. 16They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; 17for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

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The Caring Community

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Caring Community” Psalm 136

In the spirit of our tradition of sharing testimonies on Reformation Sunday, I’m stepping away from a regular sermon to share a little of my own story – which is really our story.

When I moved to Saranac Lake from the Chicago area, almost 19 years ago, I knew that I had my work cut out for me. This church had been through a lot. Many people had left. Among those who remained, there were factions. Harsh things had been said. Hurt feelings were abundant. We had trouble with what our interim Pastor Carol Drew astutely labeled “malicious gossip.” On top of that, we were looking at a $45,000 deficit budget and had exhausted much of our available savings.

Perhaps our biggest problem would be cultivating a caring community. We didn’t trust one another. We didn’t feel safe sharing our family concerns or health troubles. At first, we didn’t even feel comfortable naming our joys and concerns on Sunday mornings because you never knew if your personal business might become the afternoon chatter at the DeChantal. Healing would take time and hard work.

We began by changing our deacons, shifting their responsibilities to better meet the biblical diaconal role of Christian caregivers. Deacons stopped planning potlucks. Instead, they began to build skills like listening, keeping confidentiality, visiting, and praying with others. Two by two, they went out to visit our homebound members and friends. They also offered caring hospitality for funeral and memorial services. They did some good cooking – delivering meals for folks going through surgeries, chemotherapy, or having a tough time. They were a wonderful comfort to our aging members of that greatest generation.

It didn’t stop with the deacons. One day, Priscilla Goss returned from a visit to her cousin in Virginia with a stuffed bear. He was a cute little fellow with a bowtie and a ribbon around his neck with a little sign that said he was a blessing bear. He had been living in her cousin’s church, just waiting to be taken home to someone who needed extra love. What a sweet idea! Soon, our pews had sprouted a batch of bears. The late Bob Brown always kept an eye open for bears and would visit me like Santa several times a year with a big bag of furry friends. Over the years, many of us have taken bears out to bring a much-needed smile to those who needed it.

Another dimension of our caring ministry emerged when we formed the Heart & Hands Circle, which brings together knitters and crocheters once a month. They pray and get busy, making prayer shawls, baby blankets, and lap robes. Going through chemotherapy? You need a warm shawl to wrap around your shoulders. Recovering from knee surgery? A lap robe! New addition to the family? Break out the baby blanket! Since its inception, the group has sent out about 140 of these wonderful handmade creations to bless us.

Of course, there are more ways that we have grown as a caring community: the prayer chain, the deacons fund, our commitments to Samaritan House and the Food Pantry. How about the cookie bomb, Parent’s Night Out, and those wonderful summer bouquets that we take out weekly? We care.  People have noticed, too. Visitors often remark that ours is a warm and welcoming community. Thank you, Jesus!

I don’t think I truly realized the depth of caring in this church until I was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent some big surgeries. I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for all the love and care that came my way. And I thought you might like to see and hear some of the special ways that your caring was shown. I even brought a little “show and tell.” So, I’ll name some things, and you’ll respond with the words, “Thank, God!” Are you ready?

There has been plenty of good food! Home-made dinners, baked goods, sweet treats, birthday cake, and blueberry jelly. Thank God!

There have been flowers! Fancy florist bouquets, giant mums, garden flowers, and a 3-D paper arrangement that came all the way from MN. Thank God!

I’ve gotten lots of get well wishes! Cards, letters, emails, texts, Facebook posts, and a sweet little message on the chalkboard outside our front door. Thank God!

There have been gift certificates and fun gifts! Nori’s, Grizzle T’s, more Nori’s, and Adirondack Therapeutics; a little gourd, a little pumpkin, dumb bells, and what every pastor needs: corgi socks. Thank God!

There have been contributions of the pastor medical fund! Big gifts, little gifts and everything in between, donations that have helped us with those huge expenses. Thank God!

There have been abundant prayers! In worship, in homes, on the prayer chain, on Facebook, over the phone, and even in other churches and around the tables of local boards and charities. Thank God!

Thank God and thank you! This is what a caring Christian community is all about. We’ve come a long way, baby! Thank God!

Psalm 136

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.
2 O give thanks to the God of gods,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.
3 O give thanks to the Lord of lords,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;

4 who alone does great wonders,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
5 who by understanding made the heavens,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
6 who spread out the earth on the waters,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
7 who made the great lights,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
8 the sun to rule over the day,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
9 the moon and stars to rule over the night,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;

10 who struck Egypt through their firstborn,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
11 and brought Israel out from among them,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
12 with a strong hand and an outstretched arm,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
13 who divided the Red Sea[a] in two,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
14 and made Israel pass through the midst of it,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
15 but overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea,[b]
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
16 who led his people through the wilderness,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
who made water flow from the rock,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;[c]
17 who struck down great kings,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
18 and killed famous kings,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
19 Sihon, king of the Amorites,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
20 and Og, king of Bashan,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
21 and gave their land as a heritage,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
22 a heritage to his servant Israel,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

23 It is he who remembered us in our low estate,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
24 and rescued us from our foes,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
25 who gives food to all flesh,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

26 O give thanks to the God of heaven,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

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With Us

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “With Us” Exodus 33:12-23

On October seventh, the world was shocked by news from the Middle East. Rocket attacks and a violent incursion had been launched from Gaza into Israel by Hamas militants. 1,400 Israelis have been killed. More than 100 have been taken hostage, to be used as bargaining chips for the release of Hamas prisoners. The Israeli Defense Force was quick to respond by bombarding suspected Hamas strongholds in Gaza. 6,000 bombs were dropped in six days. Gaza’s dense population has put civilians in the crosshairs. At least 4,385 Palestinians have been killed, including 1,756 children and 967 women. A further 13,500 Gazans have been injured. The world watches and weeps. We worry that the conflict could spill over to the occupied West Bank, Lebanon, and beyond.

There are Christians in Gaza. The Book of Acts tells us that Philip the evangelist shared the gospel with the Ethiopian eunuch on the Gaza Road. In the fourth and fifth century, the monk Porphyrius made it his mission to share the good news with the people of Gaza, winning converts from traditional pagan and Roman spiritualities. The church that bears his name, St. Porphyrius Church in Gaza City, dates to the fifth century, one of the oldest Christian institutions in the Middle East. Today, there are about 1,100 Christians in Gaza, only 1% of the population. Many of them are now seeking shelter in the church or its sister institution, the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate School.

The war between Israel and Hamas may be viewed as a Muslim/Jewish conflict, but Christians are not immune to the suffering. The Al-Ahli Hospital, founded in 1898 by the World Anglican Communion, provides free medical care and food for residents of nearby villages. On Tuesday, the hospital was bombed, killing 471 people and wounding a further 300. On Thursday, the ancient St. Porphyrius Church compound was also bombed. The blast hit two church buildings where refugees, including children and babies, were sleeping. 18 were killed and twenty injured. The attacks were condemned by both the Anglican Communion and the Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem, who have called for prayers for that volatile region where Israeli Jews, Palestinian Muslims, and the frail Christian minority ask, “Where is God?”

In our reading from the Book of Exodus, Moses was worried. God had accompanied the Israelites since their escape from Egypt. The divine presence was manifest in a tower of cloud by day and a fiery pillar at night. God had even given the Israelites detailed instructions for building the tabernacle as a portable place of worship and communion with God. But things had not gone according to plan. The Israelites had complained against God and threatened mutiny over the scarcity of water and the monotony of their diet. Then, when Moses was delayed on the mountain with God, there had been outright rebellion. The people turned their backs on God and coerced Aaron into casting two golden calves – idols to the pagan god of storm and war Baal. Warned by God, Moses hurried down the mountain to find the Israelites bowing down and worshipping these gods of their own making.

It was a near thing.  God Almighty, notoriously jealous, resolved to destroy the stiff-necked and rebellious people. Only the audacious intercession of Moses saved them from utter destruction. Although Moses talked God out of catastrophe, the ardor that God felt for the Israelites cooled. As today’s reading began, Moses learned that God would no longer go with Israel. Instead, an angel would serve as a poor substitute. Moses took a look at his recalcitrant people. He turned his eyes to the harsh landscape of the wilderness. He knew that, without God, he and the people wouldn’t stand a chance.

Our own experiences of suffering and adversity can lead us to question if God is with us. Our families seethe with generational strife and marital tension, and we say, “Where are you God?” Our health suffers, the tests begin, the medical bills mount, and we wonder, “Are you with me, Lord?” The chaos of our American political landscape leaves us fearful about the future, and we plead, “We need you, God!” We know what it is like to feel stressed, worried, anxious, and alone. We know that, when left to our own devices, we do not have what it takes to meet the challenge. We know we need holy help. “Where are you God?”

It would take some fast-talking by Moses to change God’s mind. Moses reminded God that the Israelites weren’t Moses’s people—they were God’s people, all the way back to the Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God might have called Moses to lead that troublesome bunch, but he could not do so without the abiding presence of God. Fortunately, the Lord relented. But that wasn’t enough for the plucky Moses. He wanted tangible evidence. As a sign of good faith, God granted Moses’s request, sheltering the prophet in a cleft of Sinai and granting him a glimpse of the divine back. Assured of God’s faithfulness, Moses found the courage to lead a difficult people across the wilderness to the edge of the Promised Land.

We would all like what Moses got—a peek at God, a revelation that convinces us without a doubt that God is with us in our times of suffering and adversity. I think God knows that. God understands that even the most faithful among us can feel frightened, hopeless, and in need of personal reassurance. That’s why God sent Jesus to be Immanuel—God with us. In Jesus, God faced head on all the places in our lives that make our hearts tremble and question the presence of God.  Jesus faced fraught families and responded to intractable medical concerns. Jesus and his followers knew the hardship of big taxes, limited resources, and poverty. Jesus and his friends faced difficult political realities that created fear and hardship for everyday people. In Jesus, God faced it all, with the power to help and heal. In Jesus, God revealed that we are not alone as we face what makes us despair. We don’t need to see the backside of God because in Jesus we saw God incarnate. We learned that God is with us, always with us. Thanks be to God.

In Gaza City this morning, Christians are worshipping at St. Porphyrius Church. Services resumed there the same day as the bombing, with a time of solemn worship for those who were killed and injured in the blast. A Palestinian American woman, who left the church in the early 2000s when she moved from Gaza to the United States, said in an interview with the Washington Post that the church is close-knit and family-like, a lot like our church. She says that amid the falling bombs and likelihood of further violence, “They’re terrified. They’re shaken. They don’t know what to do, and they don’t know where else to go.”

Maher Ayyad, a seventy-two-year-old church member of St. Porphyrius, is the medical director of that Anglican hospital, Al-Ahli Hospital, that was also bombed this week. Maher Ayyad says that he and his fellow church members are praying, always praying. “We pray for a cease-fire all the time,” he says, “It’s too much for Gazans.” As the bombs fall and the people St. Porphyrius Church brace for an Israeli invasion, may they remember that God is with them.

Resources

Vanessa Lovelace. “Commentary on Exodus 33:12-23” in Preaching This Week, October 18, 2020. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Dennis Olson. “Commentary on Exodus 33:12-23” in Preaching This Week, October 22, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Commentary on Exodus 33:12-23” in Preaching This Week, October 16, 2011. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Kelsey Dallas. “Relatives of a former U.S. representative were among those killed in Gaza in church hit by strike” in Desert News, October 20, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.deseret.com/faith/2023/10/20/23926074/st-porphyrius-church-gaza-destroyed-justin-amash

Miriam Berger, Evan Hill and Kelsey Ables. “Historic church sheltering civilians struck in deadly Gaza City blast” in The Washington Post, October 20, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2023/10/20/gaza-church-strike-saint-porphyrius/?utm_campaign=wp_main&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter

Michelle Boorstein and Ben Brasch. “Gaza hospital where hundreds were killed is owned by Anglican Communion branch” in The Washington Post, Oct. 17, 2023. Accessed online at  https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2023/10/17/israel-hamas-gaza-hospital-anglican-church/

AJLabs. Israel-Gaza war in maps and charts: Live Tracker. In Aljazeera News, updated October 21, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.aljazeera.com/news/longform/2023/10/9/israel-hamas-war-in-maps-and-charts-live-tracker

Exodus 33:12-23

12Moses said to the Lord, “See, you have said to me, ‘Bring up this people’; but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. Yet you have said, ‘I know you by name, and you have also found favor in my sight.’ 13Now if I have found favor in your sight, show me your ways, so that I may know you and find favor in your sight. Consider too that this nation is your people.” 14He said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” 15And he said to him, “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here. 16For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people, unless you go with us? In this way, we shall be distinct, I and your people, from every people on the face of the earth.” 17The Lord said to Moses, “I will do the very thing that you have asked; for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name.” 18Moses said, “Show me your glory, I pray.” 19And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you the name, ‘The Lord’; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20But,” he said, “you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.” 21And the Lord continued, “See, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock; 22and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; 23then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.”

Image credit: https://english.alarabiya.net/features/2018/12/25/Church-of-Saint-Porphyrius-The-man-who-performed-miracles-and-fought-pagans-in-Gaza

Dressed for Success

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Dressed for Success” Matthew 22:1-14

They say that “clothes make the man.” In his 1905 short story “The Czar’s Soliloquy,” Mark Twain wrote that, “without his clothes a man would be nothing at all; the clothes do not merely make the man, the clothes are the man; without them, he is a cipher, a vacancy, a nobody, a nothing.” Twain wasn’t the first to believe that we must dress for success. The first century Roman Rhetorician and scholar Quintilian first coined the proverb “vestis virum facit” (clothes make the man). Quintilian taught that to “dress within the formal limits and with an air gives men . . . authority.” Way back when Quintilian wrote that, it wasn’t new. Eight centuries earlier, the Greek poet Homer wrote that what we wear can give us a fine report in the estimation of others. His hero Odysseus was unrecognizable while clothed as a beggar, but he had “the air of the gods who dwell in the wide heaven” when reclothed in his princely attire.

Twain, Quintilian, and Homer were on to something. We are constantly sending one another silent cues about who we are and how we should be treated through our clothing, grooming, and attitude. Indeed, social scientists have found that we suffer from representative bias. We take a look and tend to make quick assessments of one another. The man in the Armani suit and silk tie with his leather briefcase is clearly a businessman. The woman with glasses in the lab coat, stethoscope draped around her neck, must be a doctor. The young, bearded man in Carhartt pants, flannel shirt, and hiking boots must be a wilderness rec student. The woman in the black robe, rainbow stole, and white collar has got to be the pastor. Representative bias is like a cognitive shortcut. It saves us the effort of asking questions and making reasoned assessments.

In our parable from Matthew’s gospel, a guest gets in serious trouble for failing to wear the appropriate attire to the wedding feast for the King’s son. It’s a tough tale that the Bible scholars have fun debating. Dr. Lance Pap of Brite Divinity Schools calls it a “bizarre little story.” Raj Nadella of Columbia Theological Seminary says this is a parable with “strange aspects.” And Ira Driggers from the Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary claims that this is one story that you won’t find in your children’s Sunday School curriculum. It’s a reading that leaves a pastor like me scratching my head and asking, “Why did I think this would be a good passage to preach on?” We have to take a deep dive into history and scripture before the story begins to make sense. Warning! We are about to wade in some deep waters.

We begin by considering first century weddings. In the ancient Near East, weddings were a source of rejoicing for the whole community.  Even within small villages, families would celebrate the wedding of a son by inviting neighbors to a week-long festival of good food, music, and dancing.  A royal wedding would have been a truly decadent affair, with fine food, wine, entertainers, and unbridled rejoicing for everyone in the kingdom.  An invitation to that event would have been a highly prized sign of great social standing.

Contrary to those norms for first century weddings, when the king in Jesus’s story sent out the invitations, the guests refused to show.  What an affront to the royal honor! A second invitation, personally delivered by the king’s servants with a mouth-watering description of the menu, was violently rejected, too.  This was an act of treason! First, the king quelled the rebellion, then the wedding was back on. This time, the king invited everyone to attend, good and bad alike. Finally, in a further plot twist, we learn that one of the party guests dishonored the host by showing up without his wedding robe.  The ill-clad guest was ejected from the festivities to weep in the darkness outside.

In telling that uncomfortable parable, Jesus was confronting powerful adversaries, the Chief Priests and elders, who had interrupted his teaching in the Temple courts to question his authority.  Those religious leaders took one look at Jesus’s broad carpenter’s shoulders and rough callused hands. They heard his Galilean accent. They noticed his simple leather sandals and homespun linen tunic. Their representative bias kicked in. They didn’t see a rabbi. They didn’t see the most insightful Torah scholar of their day. They didn’t see the Messiah. They definitely didn’t see the Son of God. They saw a troublemaker.

With his bizarre little story, Jesus sought to move his critics past their bias to a startling new understanding. “Don’t you know who I am?” Jesus was saying, “The bridegroom is here.  The Kingdom is all around us.  God’s party is in full swing, right in front of your noses.  You’ve got your invitation.  Why don’t you come on in, and celebrate?”

Now, we still have to make sense of that poor guest who was ejected for violating the dress code.  In a world where we can wear shorts to church, sportscoats are no longer required at nice restaurants, and even Congress has relaxed its standards to accommodate hoodies and sweatpants, we really don’t have a problem with people dressing as they please. To make sense of the whole weird scenario, we need to widen our lens and look elsewhere in scripture.

The Apostle Paul in his Letter to the Ephesians used apparel as a metaphor for the resources we need to face the spiritual battle of daily living. Paul wrote, “take up the whole armor of God. . . belt your waist with truth and put on the breastplate of righteousness. and lace up your sandals in preparation for the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Eph. 6:13-17). Paul believed that we must make a daily, intentional effort to ground and clothe ourselves in our faith in Jesus. That party guest may have accepted the invitation to the wedding feast, but he was just kicking tires and testing the water. He didn’t want to do what was needed to obey the king and acknowledge the authority of the son.

I think the Apostle James makes it even easier to understand. In the second chapter of his epistle, James cautions that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:26). When we trust in Jesus, it changes us and our actions. We find ourselves following in his footsteps – welcoming outsiders, helping vulnerable neighbors, feeding hungry people, seeking to forgive, and even praying for our enemies. In Jesus’s parable, the guest was at the wedding, but he wasn’t clothed in righteousness. He demonstrated none of the changed behaviors that become second nature when our faith is rock solid and Jesus is Lord. In fact, if we page ahead to the Book of Revelation 19:8, we are told that the righteous ones, who live according to God’s ways and rejoice in God’s Kingdom forever, they will wear wedding robes.

Given all that historical and biblical context, this complex parable boils down to some simple questions for us. Are we dressed for success? Do we take time daily to clothe ourselves in Christ and take up that whole armor of God? If God were to take a look at our works, would they reflect the changed heart and transformed mind that are so much a part of following Jesus?

The good news is that we don’t have to do anything to garner that much-desired invitation to the party that God is throwing. All are welcome. We dress the part when we exhibit the love for God and the love for neighbor that Jesus endorsed. When we feast upon God’s word in scripture, when we take it to the Lord in prayer, when we worship and sing songs of praise, we are dressed for success. When we join in the CROP Walk, when we take a bouquet of flowers to someone who needs love, when we share our testimony or serve as an elder or deacon, we are dressed for success. We are sending out those silent cues about who we are and how we should be treated. We are representing as followers of Jesus and guests at the wedding. Don’t we want to be there for the celebration? I do!

The heavenly party is on, my friends. The musicians are tuning up for the wedding march.  From the kitchen wafts the savory smell of the fatted calf, roasted to perfection.  The garlands have been hung, the doors are open, the table is set, the wedding cake is iced, and the champagne is chilled.  There is a place card on the table with our name on it.  Jesus says, “How about it friends? Put on your party clothes, break out the boogie shoes, and join me for the celebration.” 

Resources

Alexander Atkins. “What is the Origin of ‘Clothes Make the Man’?” Medium. October 22, 2017. Accessed online at https://alex-65670.medium.com/what-is-the-origin-of-clothes-make-the-man-7f75e070bf45

Sarah C. Newcomb. “Do the Clothes Make the Man?” in Psychology Today, March 9, 2018. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/loaded/201803/do-the-clothes-make-the-man

Ira Brent Driggers. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 12, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Lance Pape. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 12, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Raj Nadella. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 11, 2020. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Matthew 22:1-14

22 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests. 11 But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

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American Idols

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “American Idols” Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20

For more than twenty years, folks have been tuning in to “American Idol.” We’re glued to ABC on Sunday and Monday nights as gifted vocalists vie for the votes of a select panel of judges and the American public. At stake are a grand prize of $250,000 and a recording contract with Hollywood Records, not to mention plenty of publicity and a national platform to share your talent.

Some “American Idol” winners go on to become superstars, like Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood. Perhaps the most talented American Idol finalist didn’t win. Jennifer Hudson is the youngest woman ever to receive all four major American entertainment awards. Jennifer won an Emmy for producing the animated short film “Baby Yaga.” She has received multiple Grammies, including best R&B recording for her first album. She earned an Oscar for her film debut in “Dream Girls” and a Tony award for producing the Broadway musical “A Strange Loop.” As if that weren’t impressive enough, Jennifer has a top-rated daytime talk show, and she shed eighty pounds while serving as a spokesperson for Weight Watchers.

Our reading from the Book of Exodus features a warning about the danger of idols. The Israelites had escaped slavery in Egypt and were camped at the foot of Mt. Sinai when Moses returned from the mountain top with some special instructions from God. Engraved on two tablets of stone were ten commands intended to guide the lives of the Hebrew people. These ten commandments are the very heart of the moral law of the Judeo-Christian tradition. The first four are all about our relationship with God, and the following six govern our relationship with neighbors. You might even say that living in right relationship within our community grows out of our foundational relationship with God almighty, whom alone we are to worship and serve.

The instructions to worship God alone and to refrain from making any images of God would have been a shock to the people of Israel. They lived in an Ancient Near East world where people worshipped many gods. In Egypt, where they had labored, there were more than 2,000 gods, from Isis, Osiris, and Horus to the latest Pharaoh. In Canaan, where the Israelites were bound, there were 25 deities in the pantheon of gods and spirits. Best known were the storm god of war Baal and the fertility goddess Asherah.

To worship the gods in Egyptian or Canaanite culture, you needed an image. Every cult had a life-sized statue to represent the deity, with a wooden core overlaid by precious metals and gems. Baal was portrayed with human form, a bull’s head, and a cluster of thunderbolts clenched in an upraised fist. Egyptian idols were kept in niches within temples. Each day, priests opened the shrine, cleansed and perfumed the idol with incense, place a crown upon its head, anointed it with oil, and beautified it with cosmetics. In addition to these life-sized cultic idols, families had household idols, small clay, stone or wooden images that represented the gods. These were believed to bring good luck, increase fertility, and ward off evil. With idols in temples and idols at home, the Israelites were steeped in a culture of idolatry.

To worship only one God and to refrain from making any images, that would have been deeply unsettling to the Israelites. Indeed, much of the Old Testament seems to be devoted to their struggle to worship Yahweh alone. Moses spent a little too much tome on the mountain with God and the Israelites forged a golden calf to worship. Solomon formed alliances by marrying foreign brides and permitted them to build temples to foreign gods outside of Jerusalem. Ahab and Jezebel crowned every hilltop with shrines to Baal and Asherah. It would take thousands of years, repeated foreign invasions, and the warnings of countless prophets to convince the Hebrew people that they were meant to have only one God, Yahweh.

To make sense of those first two commandments, it helps to read what our Reformation ancestor John Calvin had to say about them. Calvin pointed out that the Israelites were tempted to make idols and worship other gods because they didn’t trust that God Almighty was with them. The Egyptians and the Canaanites, when they went out to war, they carried life-sized images of their deities with them into battle. They needed to rest their eyes on their idols as physical symbols of the divine presence. How could the Israelites trust that God was with them if they didn’t have a graven image? Those first two commandments: to have no other gods and to refrain from making idols, are all about trust, about knowing that God alone is God and God is always with us. It gets easier to apply those first two commandments to our own lives when we frame them as Calvin did, when we ask ourselves what we are placing our trust in instead of God. What do we rely upon when we should be relying upon God?

In his book American Idols: The Worshipping of the American Dream, author, editor, pastor, and speaker Bob Hostetler suggests that modern day idolatry centers around six core things that Americans put their trust in, instead of God. We place our trust in how we look, prizing physical beauty, fame, athleticism, and public opinion. We place our trust in what we have, valuing our possessions or our accumulated wealth as the remedy for all of life’s challenge. We make an idol of personal comfort, taking the easy way instead of the hard or righteous way. We prize instant gratification, getting what we want when we want it without thought for consequences or costs. We prize choice—we love our liberty, so don’t tell us “No” or suggest that our options are limited.  We trust in financial success, believing that our big job and our impressive paycheck can safeguard our future. According to Hostetler, these hallmarks of the American Dream are actually American idols. What are the idols that we see at work in our lives and in our culture? What do we place our trust in when we should be trusting in God?

I’m not saying—and I don’t think Bob Hostetler is saying—that how we look, what we have, our comfort, gratification, liberty, or financial success are bad things. The problem comes when we trust in these when we should be trusting in God, when they preoccupy our time and attention, when they impinge upon our relationships with our neighbors. I tell the confirmation students that the most important relationship that they will ever have is their relationship with God. That’s where we come from. That’s where we will one day return. Everything that comes in between the cradle and the grave is God’s gracious gift to us. Life is best lived when it is built around the Holy One who blesses us beyond measure, who is always with us, even when we do not have eyes to see and ears to hear that holy presence.

No one knows the power of God alone to sustain us better than “American Idol” finalist Jennifer Hudson. JHUD, as she is called, began singing with her church choir at the age of seven. When asked, Jennifer says that her faith is the biggest part of her. She sees her creative abilities as a God-given gift, meant to give glory to God and serve others. She is refreshingly open about her beliefs. Her Twitter feed has featured photos of Jennifer praying with her team. She says, “We like to give the credit where the credit is due.” In a powerful interview with Oprah Winfrey, Hudson opened up about the importance of her faith, saying, “I always say the greatest git our mother gave us was introducing us to Christ and bringing us up in church. I feel like that’s the base. That’s the foundation, and that’s what keeps me grounded, and I think of it every day.” I think JHUD schooled Oprah in those first two commandments.

In 2008, when Jennifer Hudson ‘s family suffered a terrible tragedy, it was her faith that brought her through. Her brother-in-law William Balfour, angered by his crumbling marriage to Jennifer’s sister, shot and killed her mother, brother, and seven-year-old nephew. It was a senseless, brutal, triple homicide for which Balfour showed no remorse. Shortly after Balfour was sentenced to life in prison without parole, Jennifer and her sister released a statement, “We want to extend a prayer from the Hudson family to the Balfour family. We have all suffered a terrible loss in this tragedy . . . it is our prayer that the Lord will forgive Mr. Balfour of these heinous acts and bring his heart to repentance.” When asked how she could find forgiveness for the man who murdered her family, JHUD points to Jesus on the cross who forgave even those who mocked and murdered him. It’s a humbling reminder that a life lived in accord with those first two commandments, a life built around God, can sustain us, whether we are Israelites in the wilderness or survivors of personal tragedy.

It all begins with those first two commandments. “You shall have no other gods before Yahweh. You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above or that is on the earth beneath or that is in the water under the earth.” May we go forth to trust in God alone. Amen.

Resources:

Nancy deClaisse-Walford. “Commentary on Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 5, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Anathea Portier-Young. “Commentary on Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 8, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Edward, M. Curtis. “Idol, Idolatry” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 3 H-J. New York: Doubleday, 1992, 376-381.

John Calvin. Institutes of the Christian Religion.

Bob Hostetler. American Idols: The Worship of the American Dream. New York: B&H Books, 2006.

Sam Hailes. “Jennifer Hudson: ‘My Christian Faith Couldn’t Be Any Stronger’ in Premier Christianity, August 24, 2021. Accessed online at premierchristianity.com.

Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20

20Then God spoke all these words: 2I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; 3you shall have no other gods before me. 4You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. 7You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses his name. 8Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. 9Six days you shall labor and do all your work.

12Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you. 13You shall not murder. 14You shall not commit adultery. 15You shall not steal. 16You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. 17You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

18When all the people witnessed the thunder and lightning, the sound of the trumpet, and the mountain smoking, they were afraid and trembled and stood at a distance, 19and said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, or we will die.” 20Moses said to the people, “Do not be afraid; for God has come only to test you and to put the fear of him upon you so that you do not sin.”

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Water in the Desert

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Water in the Desert” Exodus 17:1-7

We all complain from time to time.  I know I complained about all the rain we got this summer. It turned the community garden into a swamp, made some of my favorite trails mud bowls, and had me living in my raincoat. I felt like webbing would soon be sprouting between my toes, and I was weary of drying the tummy of our very short puppy. Perhaps you gripe about your spouse forgetting to take the garbage out, or the kids putting the juice carton back in the fridge with barely a sip in it, or your boss never being on time for anything.  Researchers have found that we typically complain twenty to thirty times every day.

Complaint can be useful.  Behaviorists say that instrumental complaint is goal oriented and change seeking. Think about those brave parents who lost children to gun violence at the Sandy Hook Elementary School. They have gone on to become effective spokespeople and lobbyists for tougher gun laws. Think about Greta Thunberg and other youthful climate activists, who are heightening global awareness of climate change. These practitioners of instrumental complaint speak out about painful realities in ways that bring change.

But for some people complaint can become a deeply ingrained habit that fails to see the good in anything. Behaviorists call this mode of chronic grumbling expressive complaint.  These are complaints that aren’t in search of a solution; instead, they are a bid for attention, affirmation, or sympathy. We all have encountered people who are chronic complainers, dissatisfied with their experience and eager to tell us all about it. 

If you are a longtime Saturday Night Live fan, you may remember Doug and Wendy Whiner, who always had something to complain about. In one Whiner skit, Doug and Wendy won a tour of NYC.  First, they complained because they really wanted to visit Toledo and they hated New York. Next, they griped at the top of the Empire State Building, “Wendy, there are too many buildings! Ooo, Doug, this height makes me feel sick!” Then, they qvetch about an al fresco meal at a street vendor, “We have to wait in line. There’s no menu. Hotdogs inflame our diverticulitis.” The litany of complaint continues until, in response to all that complaint, the tour hosts arrange for the ultimate NYC experience for the Whiners: a mugging.

A study conducted by the Department of Biology and Clinical Psychology of Friedrich Schiller University found that hearing others complain raises our blood pressure and pumps the stress hormone cortisol into our bloodstream.  Another study indicates that listening to thirty minutes of negativity, whether it is in person or on the television, can actually damage the neurons in our hippocampus.  That’s the part of our brain that we rely on for problem solving. Professor Robin Kowalski at Clemson University has demonstrated that complaint is contagious.  When we complain to someone, they are likely to follow suit, complaining to others.  Kowalski says that chronic expressive complaint increases our dissatisfaction while decreasing our joy, sociability, productivity, creativity, and initiative. Maybe, just by talking about the effects of complaint, I’ve got your blood pressure and cortisol levels rising.

In our reading from Exodus, the Israelites were complaining. In fairness, they had faced hardship that might make any of us grumble.  Finally free from slavery in Egypt, our Hebrew ancestors anticipated a better life in the wilderness.  But at Marah, the water was bitter and undrinkable, and they complained against Moses, “What shall we drink?”  Later, the Israelites grew weary of their limited diet, “If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the stewpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill the whole assembly with hunger.” In response to both crises, God provided what was needed.  At Marah, the Lord showed Moses how to turn the bitter water sweet.  Then, to meet their hunger, God had sent bread from heaven (manna) every morning, and in the evening, quails came up to cover the camp.

With all God’s generous providence, freely shared in response to every crisis, we expect the Israelites to trust more and complain less.  But in today’s reading, as the water ran low, the complaining began. I imagine it started with some family grumbling, “I don’t like how little water is left in our skin.” It escalated to a community gripe, “You’d think that Moses would have better planned this trip.  Where’s the spring?”  As the days grew long and fresh water was nowhere to be seen, images of parched children and foundering livestock lurched across their imaginations. So, the Israelites unloaded on Moses, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt to kill us with thirst?”

In tough times, our concerns can get the best of us. Our anxiety and fear may even explode into a cascade of complaints. We imagine that the worst is right around the corner, we face it alone, and we don’t have what it takes to survive.  We think our difficult diagnosis is a harbinger of future suffering and a terrible death. We’re sure our money troubles will lead to bankruptcy and homelessness.  One more school shooting and we’re looking to move the family to Canada.  One more act of terror and we want to close the borders.  When we put our individual worries together and indulge in collective complaint, our families and communities can become highly anxious and filled with fear.

Given the ungracious tone of the Israelite’s complaint, we might expect God to say, “You want to go back to Egypt?  Be my guest!”  But God responds with compassion and providence.  Like a concerned parent who picks up their fussing child, God loves us even when we are at our whiniest, even when we forget that God is generous and present and deeply aware of our needs. God sent Moses and the elders out ahead of the people, and God worked another miracle.  The beleaguered Moses took his staff and struck the rock at Horeb.  Suddenly, all the grumbling and grousing, griping and complaining, transformed to shouts of “Alleluia!” as fresh, clear water spilled forth to meet the people’s thirst.

There will always be something to complain about. Life can feel a bit like the wilderness. There will always be health issues and money concerns, natural disasters, senseless violence, and acts of terror. Occasionally, a little full-blown lamentation is in order. Yet when our complaint escalates into chronic expressive complaint and catastrophic thinking, we forget that there is water in the desert, and we indulge in a dark spirituality of anxiety that denies the goodness, compassion, and presence of God.

Those same researchers who have explored the nature of complaint have also determined that some simple everyday practices can be invaluable in shifting our focus from the negative to the positive. We begin by taking time to be present in the moment and notice what is good, here and now.  Take time to simply use your senses. Attend to the beauty of changing leaves setting the mountainside on fire, the piping song of the cedar waxwings as they gorge on berries, the gift of love and intimacy, the breath of our child as we bend down to kiss them goodnight, the thump of the dog’s tail when we give him a good scratch. Our lives are filled with blessing.  Research has proven that people who cultivate a practice of noticing those everyday blessings are happier than the rest of us and much less likely to engage in destructive expressive complaint. 

Researchers also say that we can cultivate an enhanced sense of gratitude for our blessings by naming them. My Facebook feed this week has been reminding me that nine years ago I was in the midst of “The Gratitude Challenge,” posting three things for which I was grateful, every day for a week.  Nine years ago yesterday, I was grateful for all the carrots I grew in my garden; the taste of homemade tabouleh with fresh parsley, lemon juice, and mint; and the practice of journaling, which I have done for more than 30 years. Whether we are on Facebook or not, we could take time daily to not only notice the good in our lives but to name it.  Post it on-line. Write it in your journal. Share it with your family as you sit down to dinner.  I suspect that as we share with one another those simple celebrations, we’ll feel happier and better equipped to manage the moments that make us want to complain.

Perhaps our faith can be our greatest resource in facing all that makes us want to grumble and gripe. Just as God worked to deliver Israel from slavery, hunger, and thirst, we can remember that God has been at work in our past, too.  God has healed our hurting bodies.  God has sheltered our children through those tough years. God has sustained us in work places that have felt a lot like the wilderness.  God has held our marriages together through tough times. We can trust that God, who has worked in the past, is working even now – and will work in the future.  God is faithful, active, and trustworthy. Alleluia!

Well, my friends, there will always be something to complain about. But there is water in the desert. God is at work. Attend to your blessings. Share them with others. Hold fast to the faith that is in you.

Resources:

Matthew Schlimm. “Commentary on Exodus 17:1-7” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 1, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Terence Fretheim. “Commentary on Exodus 17:1-7” in Preaching This Week, March 15, 2020. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Anathea Portier-Young. “Commentary on Exodus 17:1-7” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 1, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Walker Meade. “Chronic Complaining” in The Herald Tribune (Sarasota), August 10, 2010. Accessed on-line at heraldtribune.com.

Dennis Prager. “Why Complaining Is Bad for Your Health” in Buzzle, September 26, 2013. Accessed on-line at Buzzle.com

Minda Zetlin. “Listening to Complainers Is Bad for Your Brain” in The Huffington Post, September 12, 2012.  Accessed on-line at huffpost.com.

Exodus 17:1-7

From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages, as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. 2The people quarreled with Moses, and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?” 3But the people thirsted there for water; and the people complained against Moses and said, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” 4So Moses cried out to the Lord, “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” 5The Lord said to Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. 6I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled and tested the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”

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