Faith United Church of Christ
6886 Salem Road
Cincinnati, Ohio 45226
513-231-8285
faithucc1@gmail.com
Cincinnati, Ohio 45226
513-231-8285
faithucc1@gmail.com
Sharing God's Love with our Community and our World
Pastor's Message
SERMON Beside Still Waters
Psalm 23, John 10: 11-18
The image of Jesus as shepherd is a powerful one for me. I remember a shepherd who used to visit us on occasion. His name was Jake and he was the brother of one of my mother’s best friends. My mother had a beauty shop on the first floor and she kept an eye on the front porch for her customers so she usually saw him as he approached the house—tall and ungainly, slightly stooped and slow-walking. When she saw him coming, she would run to put a cloth at the headrest of our good, over-stuffed chair (good chairs were for visitors).
Mother knew that Jake seldom came to town. He had never married; he rarely, if ever, saw relatives, who lived in other states. He lived in a tiny mobile home attached to the back of his ancient pick-up. He drove right into the pastures and parked where his flocks grazed. That old jalopy was his home. Perhaps once every two or three months, Jake needed a haircut, supplies and a visit to the bar. He always dropped in to see Mother first, where he could count on a home-cooked meal and some small talk.
Since our house was the first stop, that meant he came pretty much un-washed. Sometimes I sat on the couch and observed the communal exchange between Jake and Mother, often awkward because Jake was not prone to frivolous talk. As they spoke Jake would reach clumsily into the jelly bean jar with his huge paw of a hand and help himself to the rare treat of Jelly Bellies. Mom loved those jelly beans herself and always offered them to her customers too. She knew of Jake’s fondness for them, but also knew his hands would have the grime of outdoors on them, probably accumulated since his last visit to town.
So after Jake’s visit, Mother quietly took the remainder of the candy and dumped it, knowing that what remained was probably not a pristine offering to her customers. But she didn’t care.
Jake lived for his sheep. Human cleanliness was not important with them. He hovered over them in winter and he slept outdoors with them in summer. Instead of a sling shot, he carried a gun to ward off wolves or bears which sometimes raid sheep camps for a quick and convenient meal. If the sheep became sick, he brought them into his tiny home to care for them. When they were in labor and birthed baby lambs in the cold Wyoming springs, he brought them in and covered them in swaddling clothes and laid them next to the warm stove which heated his living quarters.
Together the man and the sheep made their way through the valleys to quiet streams, where he and his flock might avail themselves of sweet water from pristine springs, springs leading to still-water pools where they drank their peaceful fill.
Stop, you could say. Now you’re getting romantic; this didn’t really happen.
Oh yes it did. Jake loved and lived for his sheep. I’m thinking he probably died with them. They meant everything to him. Mother knew this somehow, probably because she had grown up on a farm and, although her immigrant grandparents dealt with cattle instead of sheep, the same attitude prevailed—the animals and their needs always came first. A simple, yet powerful existence!
Mother never talked down to Jake, but struggled to engage him in meaningful talk. She knew he was uncomfortable with human company and polite conversation. She didn’t mind his muddy shoes and she never complained to us when he left.
A man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief.
Handel’s Messiah, inspired by the Psalms and Isaiah and Hebrews, the writings of Paul and Revelations, was written in 1741 in 24 days, from August 22nd to September 14th. The choruses are simple, 4-part, and the solos melodic and profound. I am struck with awe when I re-read this work, remembering performances where the task of the interpreter is ‘to seize the vital conception of the art-work, to blend it with (the artist’s) own ego and the views of the period, and thus imbue it with life and effectiveness.[1]
When Handel wrote of Jesus’ life, he imbued those scriptures with his own ego and his own times and artists have kept that inherent mystery alive through the centuries, coming to our aid this morning in a world full of doubt and despair, great uncertainty and violence, re-creating the mystery of our God with a steadfast and courageous affirmation that he lives!
There is much more to the image of Jesus as shepherd than it seems at first glance. There is more than the sweet image of God as our shepherd as we read the 23rd Psalm and John 10. Once again the scriptures surprise us! Clothed in simple shepherd’s garb, Jesus proclaims the reign of God in our midst with every word and movement!
But we must take care! These daring claims speak not only of Jesus and his relationship, but the claims for us and ON us!
The problem with this claim is that we are people who have been born and raised to resist ownership by others! So we find ourselves in a dilemma. We think we are the subject of the 23rd Psalm, that we must be at the center of its thought. Abraham Heschel, a 20th c. theologian said ‘the story of the Hebrew Scriptures was not our search for God but rather God in search of (each of us).’
Jesus’ claim to be “the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep” is a bold rejoinder to those who challenged his authority. This is more than pleasant imagery: Moses was a shepherd and so was King David. Ezekiel identified God’s action toward broken and scattered people as the work of a shepherd: “I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed." [2] If we are caught up in this, it is not a small activity, quickly over, done by ‘good will.’ No, it is the act of a deeply committed party, seeking our welfare at all costs to the self.
In John we are reminded of images of generations of those martyred for love of the flock: the powerful sacrifice of Joan of Arc, the civil rights movement and the courage it took to speak out in eloquent language on behalf of legal justice, of Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. In another decade the martyr with the deepest kind of commitment to his people, Archbishop Oscar Romero of Central America, was assassinated by extremists who did not understand the message of the Christ once again.
I am reminded of the triptych which I saw in a San Francisco showing, painted by the Jewish artist Marc Chagall. It was of the Christ hanging nearly naked on a cross high above burning villages and screaming people far below in a country-side filled with Jews during the pogroms in Europe. Chagall’s Christ hung there looking at our misery born of ignorance and violence and the face of Christ was filled with a discernible, almost palpable sorrow which made me catch my breath as I looked at it.
“Behold the lamb of God, who absorbs the sorrow and sins of the world. He was despised and rejected of men: a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. Surely he has born our grief and carried our sorrows, wounded for our wrongs and bruised for our violence toward one another. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have, every one, turned to our own way. And many who don’t understand, laugh him to scorn and shake their heads. And his heart is broken.”
The water is deep and swirling beneath its seeming peacefulness! Much has been given for us to be able to lie down in green pastures and drink from still waters.
When I read today’s scriptures, I remembered Jake and his huge frame and thick hands which reflected so many kinds of love—his love for his sheep, the flock’s love for him, and Mother’s love for the brother of a beloved friend she seldom saw. A man of sorrows, I think. Mother was well aware of Jake’s limitations in traditional society, but she deeply respected the man he was: a bold keeper of sheep and a person who thought of her first when he came to town.
“I know my Redeemer lives! And the mystery is this: we shall all be changed in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye!
Worthy is the lamb and thanks be to God! Blessing and honour, glory and power, be unto God and to the lamb for ever and ever!” Amen! Amen!
[1]G. Schirmer, Introductory Note, p. iii, G.F. Handel The Messiah: An Oratorio.
[2]lbid.
Psalm 23, John 10: 11-18
The image of Jesus as shepherd is a powerful one for me. I remember a shepherd who used to visit us on occasion. His name was Jake and he was the brother of one of my mother’s best friends. My mother had a beauty shop on the first floor and she kept an eye on the front porch for her customers so she usually saw him as he approached the house—tall and ungainly, slightly stooped and slow-walking. When she saw him coming, she would run to put a cloth at the headrest of our good, over-stuffed chair (good chairs were for visitors).
Mother knew that Jake seldom came to town. He had never married; he rarely, if ever, saw relatives, who lived in other states. He lived in a tiny mobile home attached to the back of his ancient pick-up. He drove right into the pastures and parked where his flocks grazed. That old jalopy was his home. Perhaps once every two or three months, Jake needed a haircut, supplies and a visit to the bar. He always dropped in to see Mother first, where he could count on a home-cooked meal and some small talk.
Since our house was the first stop, that meant he came pretty much un-washed. Sometimes I sat on the couch and observed the communal exchange between Jake and Mother, often awkward because Jake was not prone to frivolous talk. As they spoke Jake would reach clumsily into the jelly bean jar with his huge paw of a hand and help himself to the rare treat of Jelly Bellies. Mom loved those jelly beans herself and always offered them to her customers too. She knew of Jake’s fondness for them, but also knew his hands would have the grime of outdoors on them, probably accumulated since his last visit to town.
So after Jake’s visit, Mother quietly took the remainder of the candy and dumped it, knowing that what remained was probably not a pristine offering to her customers. But she didn’t care.
Jake lived for his sheep. Human cleanliness was not important with them. He hovered over them in winter and he slept outdoors with them in summer. Instead of a sling shot, he carried a gun to ward off wolves or bears which sometimes raid sheep camps for a quick and convenient meal. If the sheep became sick, he brought them into his tiny home to care for them. When they were in labor and birthed baby lambs in the cold Wyoming springs, he brought them in and covered them in swaddling clothes and laid them next to the warm stove which heated his living quarters.
Together the man and the sheep made their way through the valleys to quiet streams, where he and his flock might avail themselves of sweet water from pristine springs, springs leading to still-water pools where they drank their peaceful fill.
Stop, you could say. Now you’re getting romantic; this didn’t really happen.
Oh yes it did. Jake loved and lived for his sheep. I’m thinking he probably died with them. They meant everything to him. Mother knew this somehow, probably because she had grown up on a farm and, although her immigrant grandparents dealt with cattle instead of sheep, the same attitude prevailed—the animals and their needs always came first. A simple, yet powerful existence!
Mother never talked down to Jake, but struggled to engage him in meaningful talk. She knew he was uncomfortable with human company and polite conversation. She didn’t mind his muddy shoes and she never complained to us when he left.
A man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief.
Handel’s Messiah, inspired by the Psalms and Isaiah and Hebrews, the writings of Paul and Revelations, was written in 1741 in 24 days, from August 22nd to September 14th. The choruses are simple, 4-part, and the solos melodic and profound. I am struck with awe when I re-read this work, remembering performances where the task of the interpreter is ‘to seize the vital conception of the art-work, to blend it with (the artist’s) own ego and the views of the period, and thus imbue it with life and effectiveness.[1]
When Handel wrote of Jesus’ life, he imbued those scriptures with his own ego and his own times and artists have kept that inherent mystery alive through the centuries, coming to our aid this morning in a world full of doubt and despair, great uncertainty and violence, re-creating the mystery of our God with a steadfast and courageous affirmation that he lives!
There is much more to the image of Jesus as shepherd than it seems at first glance. There is more than the sweet image of God as our shepherd as we read the 23rd Psalm and John 10. Once again the scriptures surprise us! Clothed in simple shepherd’s garb, Jesus proclaims the reign of God in our midst with every word and movement!
But we must take care! These daring claims speak not only of Jesus and his relationship, but the claims for us and ON us!
The problem with this claim is that we are people who have been born and raised to resist ownership by others! So we find ourselves in a dilemma. We think we are the subject of the 23rd Psalm, that we must be at the center of its thought. Abraham Heschel, a 20th c. theologian said ‘the story of the Hebrew Scriptures was not our search for God but rather God in search of (each of us).’
Jesus’ claim to be “the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep” is a bold rejoinder to those who challenged his authority. This is more than pleasant imagery: Moses was a shepherd and so was King David. Ezekiel identified God’s action toward broken and scattered people as the work of a shepherd: “I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed." [2] If we are caught up in this, it is not a small activity, quickly over, done by ‘good will.’ No, it is the act of a deeply committed party, seeking our welfare at all costs to the self.
In John we are reminded of images of generations of those martyred for love of the flock: the powerful sacrifice of Joan of Arc, the civil rights movement and the courage it took to speak out in eloquent language on behalf of legal justice, of Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. In another decade the martyr with the deepest kind of commitment to his people, Archbishop Oscar Romero of Central America, was assassinated by extremists who did not understand the message of the Christ once again.
I am reminded of the triptych which I saw in a San Francisco showing, painted by the Jewish artist Marc Chagall. It was of the Christ hanging nearly naked on a cross high above burning villages and screaming people far below in a country-side filled with Jews during the pogroms in Europe. Chagall’s Christ hung there looking at our misery born of ignorance and violence and the face of Christ was filled with a discernible, almost palpable sorrow which made me catch my breath as I looked at it.
“Behold the lamb of God, who absorbs the sorrow and sins of the world. He was despised and rejected of men: a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. Surely he has born our grief and carried our sorrows, wounded for our wrongs and bruised for our violence toward one another. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have, every one, turned to our own way. And many who don’t understand, laugh him to scorn and shake their heads. And his heart is broken.”
The water is deep and swirling beneath its seeming peacefulness! Much has been given for us to be able to lie down in green pastures and drink from still waters.
When I read today’s scriptures, I remembered Jake and his huge frame and thick hands which reflected so many kinds of love—his love for his sheep, the flock’s love for him, and Mother’s love for the brother of a beloved friend she seldom saw. A man of sorrows, I think. Mother was well aware of Jake’s limitations in traditional society, but she deeply respected the man he was: a bold keeper of sheep and a person who thought of her first when he came to town.
“I know my Redeemer lives! And the mystery is this: we shall all be changed in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye!
Worthy is the lamb and thanks be to God! Blessing and honour, glory and power, be unto God and to the lamb for ever and ever!” Amen! Amen!
[1]G. Schirmer, Introductory Note, p. iii, G.F. Handel The Messiah: An Oratorio.
[2]lbid.
There may be several Sermons listed here. Please scroll down to the message of your choosing.
SERMON: As God’s People
Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10, 1 Corinthians 12:12-31z, Luke 4: 14-21
I am a Spanish speaker. I became one when I moved to Costa Rica. My Spanish no es muy bien porque es la Espanol de la calle; no es la Espanol de la escuela. I call it ‘street Spanish; I didn’t learn it in school. When I was in high school I took Latin, a ‘dead language’. Good thinking. My sister took Spanish, though, but until one of her children was married in Cabo San Lucas and the waiters on the ship were from Mexico, she never spoke a word after her sophomore year. Also good thinking.
Have you ever been in a foreign country where you could listen to natives speak the language? Maybe you took the language for years in a class, but on the streets of that country, the words jumble against you and you panic. Nothing sounds familiar, and you remember doing well in class! Confusion shows on your face, and eventually someone recognizes the look. The speaker slows down, you gesture together and communication takes place. Finally you are with someone who can really help you understand what you are hearing. And real understanding requires interpretation.[1] It also involves respect and trust.
Many scholars and pastors read today’s passage from Nehemiah and interpret it from the point of reading the laws to people and what that means to us as people of God. For instance, the word ‘all’ appears 8 times. All people….. Nehemiah addresses both women and men twice, just to make sure we are all listening and discerning that this information is for all of us, not a privileged few.
The book of Nehemiah narrates Nehemiah’s return to Jerusalem from Babylonia to rebuild the city and its wall. The wall and city are restored at the time of this text and he is governor. Nehemiah realizes this is a good time for the people to experience the word of God read aloud once again and explained to them. Nehemiah is a stranger to the people who are left in Jerusalem; it has been many years. To add to possible confusion or misunderstandings, the language of the scriptures is new and possibly strange to them. The culture of the place has gone on without scriptures and priests to interpret them. Many changes have taken place over time. The people, Nehemiah, Ezra and the scriptures have to find a way to become re-acquainted, to accept the changes with grace, but with wariness, making sure that the changes work for both the Nehemiah-led new governing of the remnant of Jerusalem Jews. More importantly, they are all aware that as God’s people, they are hungry for the word of God, spiritually hungry to learn about their origins and renew their bonds with the God of their creation and sustenance.
As God’s people it is a matter of trust; it is a matter of respect; it is a matter of compassion and it is a matter of faith in something beyond our own individual selves. And it somehow has to do with acceptance of change, because in God, all things are changing every nanosecond.
“As God’s people, we can understand that, as we gather together, we are conscious of coming into the presence of the living and holy God and when we center our worship on God’s Word, when we offer all of ourselves to God, we cannot help but be changed (ourselves) over time.”[2]… Which leads us directly closer to God.
Nehemiah, the governor, and Ezra, the priest and scribe, stood before the crowd to bring the Word to the people of God in a way they could understand. They blessed the Lord and the people could agree with that, and they gave sense to the readings, so the people could hear it and ponder it all on their time.
So change is inevitable and the possibility of acceptance requires trust, respect, compassion and faith on everyone’s part.
I would like to bring this down from its lofty perch here. I would diverge for a moment to tell a small story about us, you and me. You all as God’s people, know I am a proponent for doing all we can do to re-cycle, grow gardens, use less energy in all the ways available to us, hidden and obvious. And you have been doing a very good job of putting your paper plates into the can marked, ‘paper,’ your plastic into the can marked ‘plastic’ and your aluminum in all forms into the can marked ‘cans.’ You also all know my aversion to Styrofoam……..
So what to my wondering eyes did appear on Wednesday evening on a kitchen counter but a huge stack of Styrofoam plates!
“Where did those come from?”
“We got them for the January 30th Saturday night dinner because the sauerkraut might soak the paper plates.”
“I see,” I said, but really didn’t, and found myself working up an anger.
After the worship team meeting, I caught up with Grace Ayer, who is one of the cooks and promoters. Tom Murphy is the other. “Grace, I noticed the paper plates are Styrofoam,” I said.
“Yes, we all know how against that you are, but this one last time when we still don’t have plates, we decided to purchase them anyway. We thought you could come and protest at the dinner if you wanted to,” she said with a smile.
Which, of course, she knew I wouldn’t. Then I saw the humor in this and also the larger picture of give and take. The truth is, nothing really good happens overnight, now does it? We have to hear the news, then ponder it. We don’t want to throw out everything of the old and we might need to make some changes (within the changes) which suit us better. And we’d certainly need patience, respect for and trust in each other.)
Jesus knew all these thing about change (and much more and more deeply knew the ways of human thinking) when he introduced his radical message in the synagogue that day. He quoted Isaiah, the prophet from the old days. Brilliant!
He didn’t throw out the baby with the bath water, as they used to say. He incorporated the Scripture, used it with respect and trust, and brought the new bath water of his message: good news to all God’s people and that includes the poor who may be first in line, not last; release to the captives, especially those who are captivated by false prophets—the prophets of prosperity at the expense and sacrifice of those in need of help; recovery of sight to the blind, which is a figurative term, reminding us to see with our hearts; to let the oppressed go free, even if it looks to our eyes that they haven’t earned the right; and finally, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, which is forgiveness in all its forms.
This last one may be the most difficult for all of us to perform, as God’s people.
For haven’t we always read and obeyed the laws, the Scriptures which are the Word of God? So, then, don’t we know what’s best for others when they are in debt in any way to us, whether by favor, or by social damage they have done to us, or the fact that (how dare they?) they might disagree with us? Don’t we, as God’s people, have the right, to judge and bring down a sentence on them?
I have been brought to tears many times this week as I’ve watched the rescue activity going on in Haiti, watched the beautiful telecast produced by celebrities, whose private lives may not be agreeable with our taste, watched doctors and health workers and military troops from all countries and religions, come together to take care of the poor? They ask no questions, they point no fingers, they just work to liberate the captives under the cement rubble. They ask no questions when they hand out food and water to the poor. And they are letting the oppressed people running amok in the streets at first, go free! Go free! They understand with respect and trust that these people may loot and steal when they have children or old parents or a spouse starving in the street somewhere in the city or countryside. And peace seems to be slowly seeping into the activities.
As God’s people, can we do less than this? Is our sight for righteousness so brief, so tunnel-imaged that we cannot see the gifts of others? Can’t we see that they are just as precious in the sight of God? I believe in us as humans. I believe we can adjust to this radical way of living or I wouldn’t stand up here every Sunday and become a fool for Christ, right in front of you, once a week and sometimes more.
A wonderful trusting, praying, respectful member of our congregation gave me a reading which she had found. She thought it was beautiful. She happens to be one of our senior members. “Martha and Mary also remind us that God uses all kinds of people. He has gifted us differently for a reason, and we’re not to despise one another or look at others with contempt, just because we have differing temperaments or contrasting personalities.” Anonymous
Nehemiah, the governor, Ezra, the priest, Jesus, our Lord, and Paul, the apostle and prophet understood that we are all members of one Body. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.
Everything changes, we all speak the language ‘of the street.’ But we also know that, even as we are all strangers together, we are also members together of the same body.
[1] Valerie B. Davis, Homiletical Perspective, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 1, p 269
[2] W. Carter Lester, Pastoral Perspective, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol 1, p.270.
Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10, 1 Corinthians 12:12-31z, Luke 4: 14-21
I am a Spanish speaker. I became one when I moved to Costa Rica. My Spanish no es muy bien porque es la Espanol de la calle; no es la Espanol de la escuela. I call it ‘street Spanish; I didn’t learn it in school. When I was in high school I took Latin, a ‘dead language’. Good thinking. My sister took Spanish, though, but until one of her children was married in Cabo San Lucas and the waiters on the ship were from Mexico, she never spoke a word after her sophomore year. Also good thinking.
Have you ever been in a foreign country where you could listen to natives speak the language? Maybe you took the language for years in a class, but on the streets of that country, the words jumble against you and you panic. Nothing sounds familiar, and you remember doing well in class! Confusion shows on your face, and eventually someone recognizes the look. The speaker slows down, you gesture together and communication takes place. Finally you are with someone who can really help you understand what you are hearing. And real understanding requires interpretation.[1] It also involves respect and trust.
Many scholars and pastors read today’s passage from Nehemiah and interpret it from the point of reading the laws to people and what that means to us as people of God. For instance, the word ‘all’ appears 8 times. All people….. Nehemiah addresses both women and men twice, just to make sure we are all listening and discerning that this information is for all of us, not a privileged few.
The book of Nehemiah narrates Nehemiah’s return to Jerusalem from Babylonia to rebuild the city and its wall. The wall and city are restored at the time of this text and he is governor. Nehemiah realizes this is a good time for the people to experience the word of God read aloud once again and explained to them. Nehemiah is a stranger to the people who are left in Jerusalem; it has been many years. To add to possible confusion or misunderstandings, the language of the scriptures is new and possibly strange to them. The culture of the place has gone on without scriptures and priests to interpret them. Many changes have taken place over time. The people, Nehemiah, Ezra and the scriptures have to find a way to become re-acquainted, to accept the changes with grace, but with wariness, making sure that the changes work for both the Nehemiah-led new governing of the remnant of Jerusalem Jews. More importantly, they are all aware that as God’s people, they are hungry for the word of God, spiritually hungry to learn about their origins and renew their bonds with the God of their creation and sustenance.
As God’s people it is a matter of trust; it is a matter of respect; it is a matter of compassion and it is a matter of faith in something beyond our own individual selves. And it somehow has to do with acceptance of change, because in God, all things are changing every nanosecond.
“As God’s people, we can understand that, as we gather together, we are conscious of coming into the presence of the living and holy God and when we center our worship on God’s Word, when we offer all of ourselves to God, we cannot help but be changed (ourselves) over time.”[2]… Which leads us directly closer to God.
Nehemiah, the governor, and Ezra, the priest and scribe, stood before the crowd to bring the Word to the people of God in a way they could understand. They blessed the Lord and the people could agree with that, and they gave sense to the readings, so the people could hear it and ponder it all on their time.
So change is inevitable and the possibility of acceptance requires trust, respect, compassion and faith on everyone’s part.
I would like to bring this down from its lofty perch here. I would diverge for a moment to tell a small story about us, you and me. You all as God’s people, know I am a proponent for doing all we can do to re-cycle, grow gardens, use less energy in all the ways available to us, hidden and obvious. And you have been doing a very good job of putting your paper plates into the can marked, ‘paper,’ your plastic into the can marked ‘plastic’ and your aluminum in all forms into the can marked ‘cans.’ You also all know my aversion to Styrofoam……..
So what to my wondering eyes did appear on Wednesday evening on a kitchen counter but a huge stack of Styrofoam plates!
“Where did those come from?”
“We got them for the January 30th Saturday night dinner because the sauerkraut might soak the paper plates.”
“I see,” I said, but really didn’t, and found myself working up an anger.
After the worship team meeting, I caught up with Grace Ayer, who is one of the cooks and promoters. Tom Murphy is the other. “Grace, I noticed the paper plates are Styrofoam,” I said.
“Yes, we all know how against that you are, but this one last time when we still don’t have plates, we decided to purchase them anyway. We thought you could come and protest at the dinner if you wanted to,” she said with a smile.
Which, of course, she knew I wouldn’t. Then I saw the humor in this and also the larger picture of give and take. The truth is, nothing really good happens overnight, now does it? We have to hear the news, then ponder it. We don’t want to throw out everything of the old and we might need to make some changes (within the changes) which suit us better. And we’d certainly need patience, respect for and trust in each other.)
Jesus knew all these thing about change (and much more and more deeply knew the ways of human thinking) when he introduced his radical message in the synagogue that day. He quoted Isaiah, the prophet from the old days. Brilliant!
He didn’t throw out the baby with the bath water, as they used to say. He incorporated the Scripture, used it with respect and trust, and brought the new bath water of his message: good news to all God’s people and that includes the poor who may be first in line, not last; release to the captives, especially those who are captivated by false prophets—the prophets of prosperity at the expense and sacrifice of those in need of help; recovery of sight to the blind, which is a figurative term, reminding us to see with our hearts; to let the oppressed go free, even if it looks to our eyes that they haven’t earned the right; and finally, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, which is forgiveness in all its forms.
This last one may be the most difficult for all of us to perform, as God’s people.
For haven’t we always read and obeyed the laws, the Scriptures which are the Word of God? So, then, don’t we know what’s best for others when they are in debt in any way to us, whether by favor, or by social damage they have done to us, or the fact that (how dare they?) they might disagree with us? Don’t we, as God’s people, have the right, to judge and bring down a sentence on them?
I have been brought to tears many times this week as I’ve watched the rescue activity going on in Haiti, watched the beautiful telecast produced by celebrities, whose private lives may not be agreeable with our taste, watched doctors and health workers and military troops from all countries and religions, come together to take care of the poor? They ask no questions, they point no fingers, they just work to liberate the captives under the cement rubble. They ask no questions when they hand out food and water to the poor. And they are letting the oppressed people running amok in the streets at first, go free! Go free! They understand with respect and trust that these people may loot and steal when they have children or old parents or a spouse starving in the street somewhere in the city or countryside. And peace seems to be slowly seeping into the activities.
As God’s people, can we do less than this? Is our sight for righteousness so brief, so tunnel-imaged that we cannot see the gifts of others? Can’t we see that they are just as precious in the sight of God? I believe in us as humans. I believe we can adjust to this radical way of living or I wouldn’t stand up here every Sunday and become a fool for Christ, right in front of you, once a week and sometimes more.
A wonderful trusting, praying, respectful member of our congregation gave me a reading which she had found. She thought it was beautiful. She happens to be one of our senior members. “Martha and Mary also remind us that God uses all kinds of people. He has gifted us differently for a reason, and we’re not to despise one another or look at others with contempt, just because we have differing temperaments or contrasting personalities.” Anonymous
Nehemiah, the governor, Ezra, the priest, Jesus, our Lord, and Paul, the apostle and prophet understood that we are all members of one Body. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.
Everything changes, we all speak the language ‘of the street.’ But we also know that, even as we are all strangers together, we are also members together of the same body.
[1] Valerie B. Davis, Homiletical Perspective, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 1, p 269
[2] W. Carter Lester, Pastoral Perspective, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol 1, p.270.