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December 1, 2024
by Sara Baron

“Be on Guard” based on Jeremiah 33:14-16 and Luke 21:25-36

As a general rule, I really hate Advent texts. I hate them because they’re apocalyptic and messy and scary and generally reflect a future I hope we don’t have.

When I reflected on this with Worship Committee last month, they looked at me knowingly and pointed out that perhaps that’s exactly why we need the Lectionary Advent texts right now. Because 1. we need some connection to our traditions and 2. it feels really real right now.

Which, since you just heard the utter wonder of the Luke 21 text, you can tell I was convinced by those ideas. However, I’m particularly lucky that the Sunday Night Bible Study also just finished reading the book of Daniel and I’m way more aware of the genre of apocalyptic literature in the Bible than I normally am.

I do not, for the record, recommend reading the book of Daniel outside of the context of a Bible Study or without some truly excellent commentaries. However, I had the benefit of reading it with excellent commentaries and insightful fellow readers.

The thing about Daniel, and the book of Revelation, and I think this passage in Luke is: they’re written as resistance literature. They can’t be direct and make the point, “The person who has all the power an is oppressing us with it is not doing God’s will,” because if they say that then anyone who has access to the document will be killed. #OpressiveRegimes So, they put things in different times. Daniel pretends to be from the past, Revelation pretends to be in the future. Then they speak about the abuses of power they see now, and do it in a way that it clear that God is still God and the horrors of this time will come to an end.

They are powerful tools of encouragement, of hope, and of resistance.

But, in order to obscure their points so people don’t die, they’re also a little bit hard to decipher.

I’m not really sure what Luke is trying to get to in today’s passage. (The Jesus seminar is pretty clear this is all Luke’s writing, not reflective directly of Jesus.) What we do know is that the early Christian communities experienced fairly extreme circumstances, and often needed encouragement and resistance literature. It seems that it could be common enough to feel like things were so bad that “people would faint from fear”. But Luke assures the people that things getting bad are just a sign they’re going to get better soon. Because the people needed to be encouraged.

So, beloveds, as people who also might need some encouragement, the part of the passage that encouraged me this week was one little line, “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.” Oh, I needed that reminder. Be on guard that your heart is not weighed down.

Sweet Jesus, thank you. (Or, rather, thanks Luke.)

Now, Jeremiah goes at this from a different perspective. Which is interesting because Jeremiah is known for being a significant downer as a prophet. But chapter 33 is one of Jeremiah’s “good cop” chapters and Jeremiah encourages the people that the end has not come and good times are going to come again.

Now, I have to admit something to you. I rebel against the word “righteousness.” I don’t think my objections are particularly fair. It is a good word. It means living well, living “rightly,” living in right relationship with God and neighbors. And yet, somehow, when I come across it, I connect it with purity culture and judgmental-ism and people judging whether or not one is righteous and it just ruins the whole thing for me. (I believe others struggle with Justice for similar reasons, and oddly enough I like that one.)

So, I thesaurus-ed “righteous” and the simplest substitute for it is “goodness” which I can handle. With that, we get a passage from Jeremiah that says:

The days are coming, God says, when I’m going to fulfill my promises.

In those days David’s line will continue,

and the leader in the line of David will bring goodness and fairness to everyone.

The people will be safe and well.

Things will be so good that other nations will call my people by the name,

“God is our goodness.”

I like it. Sounds to me like yet another description of that beloved community or kindom of God we’re co-creating with God. God reminds us, even in dark times, not to give up hope.

And Luke reminds us to be on guard so our hearts aren’t weighed down.

Which leads me to invite us to think about both what weighs down our hearts, and what lifts those weights.

I can share that my weights are lifted by:

remembering all the organizations and people working for goodness
jokes and memes that hit at the crux of things with humor
feeling heard
being able to truly hear another person’s heart
singing together
fiction and fictional portrayals that give me a break from the problems of this time
telling God exactly what I’m feeling and why
giving God time to respond (I may use this less than I wish)
helping others
baking
and as I was reminded in today’s Advent Devotional – a snack and a nap!

It’s my list, I don’t know if yours has baking on it or not 😉 But, if you are willing, would you work on making your list? What lifts the weights when your heart is heavy?

And, if you are willing, could you then put that list somewhere you can see it, as a reminder for when your heart needs you to guard it and lighten it’s load?

Someone wise reminded me this week that it is hard to be disconcerted by reality at the same time that others are, because instead of steadying each other, people are pulling each other further off kilter. I say we work on becoming a fire break in the anxiety storm, a source of calm in the midst of it all. We guard our hearts and each other’s, so we can be steady when others are off kilter. Are you with me?

I hope so. Thanks be to God for the opportunity to lift some weights from our hearts, so we have capacity to help others when their weights get too heavy. Amen

December 1, 2025

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

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November 24, 2024
by Sara Baron

“Don’t Worry!?!?!?!?!?” based on Psalm 126 and Matthew 6:25-33

So. Here we are. Back in the “sowing of tears,” and “going out with weeping.”

Again.

And once again, perhaps this is not the moment that you are in the mood to hear, “Don’t worry.” Perhaps, like me, you are prepared with a list of perfectly reasonable things that one could be worried about, and all of them without over-responding to reality.

Right?

And yet, once again, I have to admit that Jesus was talking to people who also had pressing concerns, life and death concerns, including about where their next meals were coming from. It was to people whose lives were being shortened by poverty, who lacked access to basic resources that Jesus said, “don’t worry.”

Which I think means we aren’t able to ignore it.

I find, when I stop fighting with this passage and listen to it, that Jesus is making some pretty pragmatic points. He isn’t actually saying, “don’t worry, be happy.” He is saying, “Don’t worry because worrying doesn’t get you anywhere. You don’t solve your problems by worrying about them.”

Which is just true. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve worked myself up into a lather about particular concerns just to have those particular issues never actually emerge in my life, or in the world. I always seem to worry about the WRONG things.

In the end, this gospel passage comes to an interesting conclusion. Strive for God’s kin-dom, and trust God, and you will be OK.

Now, take a breath. I know, and you know, that things aren’t going to be OK for everyone. We aren’t being hopelessly naive here. The world is a hard place and lots of people struggle profoundly. Like in the time of Jesus, lack of access to resources results in people’s deaths, even when there are enough resources to go around.

So, what was Jesus getting at? The man was not hopelessly naive.

I hear two really important points in what in Gospel lesson. The first is a point mostly to those at the bottom of the social hierarchy. The people that society has deemed expendable. The ones whose lives are shortened by greed at the time. To those people, Jesus says, “God doesn’t see you as expendable. You matter.” To make this point Jesus reminds them that all the wealth and resources of the world can’t dress a person as beautifully as the flowers. And nature itself cares for the birds, and God loves you more than the flowers and the birds. Perhaps that sounds trivial, that people matter. But I think it isn’t. I think that’s everything. I think that’s in the core of the good news. God cares about EVERYONE, NO ONE is expendable, and whenever anyone is treated as expendable, that is against the will of God.

The other piece is equally central. “Strive first for the kindom of God and God’s goodness, and the rest will follow.” Here is the thing. It actually will. Because the more people are striving for the kindom, the more people are living out God’s goodness, the better things get. Even in the most impoverished places on earth, if people work together, they have a lot more than when they compete. And the more people buy into “everyone matters” the closer we get to sharing life-giving resources responsibility.

I’ve also noticed, in the past few weeks, that striving for the kindom of God and seeking God’s goodness is the one of the most inspiring things I can do. It is harder to worry about cabinet choices when one is face to face with a breakfast guest who is sharing about their life. It is hard to worry about what will come in a few months when sitting with someone at the end of their life. It is hard to maintain hopelessness when reflecting on lives well lived. It is in a whole lot of pretty small actions that hope gets rebuild. And, around here, we have plenty of small actions that need doing that end up building the kindom of God and seeking God’s goodness.

I remember learning eight years ago that I am lucky to have a pulpit, because working to find the good news keeps me focused on it. I’ve watched, even in the past few weeks, the ways that regular committee meetings can be sources of comfort and hope. Even just being in shared reality helps.

This time around, I don’t want to be as easily swayed. I don’t want to spend years being angry, or to be dismayed all the time. This time, we have a pretty good sense of what is coming. And I, for one, want to be grounded in God’s goodness and centered in community and ready to be able to stand in front of those who are vulnerable without wavering. To do that though, I can’t let myself drown in despair, let go of hope, or even burn with righteousness anger.

Luckily, we know about stuff that grounds us in God and community. Worship. Prayer. Mission. Ministry. Human Connection. Laugher. Joy. Play. (PLAY!) Humor. Music. Art. Bodily Movement. Nature. Sabbath.

And, a lot of that we’re pretty good at.

So, here is your permission: put on your oxygen masks. We are going to need to be able to take deep breathes to do this well. But with God, we can be love in even this world.

And, I’m not going to tell you not to worry. But, please remember: God loves everyone, and building the kindom helps build resilience to despair. Also, best of all God is still with us.

I think that’s plenty to be thankful for, how about you? Amen

Nov. 24, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

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November 10, 2024
by Sara Baron

A Reminder of Who God Is and Who We Are Called to Be

God’s steadfast love endures forever

and God’s faithfulness for all Generations.

God is the God of creation,

of all people and all living things,

and even all non-living things.

God seeks the common good.

God is on the side of the oppressed.

God is the one who seeks just distribution of resources,

starting with sabbath,

and extending to all things.

God is a God of abundance who made this earth with plenty.

God wants us to share so all can thrive.

God is the wellspring of love.

God shelters us, even when no one else does.

God is the one seeking the kindom.

And we, dear ones, are God’s people.

Called to compassion.

Called to be shelter in the storm.

Called to bold action to protect God’s loved ones.

Called to be peace and work for peace.

Called to be in a community of grace – without boundaries.

Called to look for God’s hand moving us towards justice,

even when it is hard to see.

Called to live in the tragic gap and see how things are

and how things should be and not look away.

Called to build the kindom with God, even when it is hard.

Called to be, and to be love.

Called to trust in God’s steadfast love and faithfulness.

May we hear God’s call. Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

Nov. 10, 2024

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November 3, 2024
by Sara Baron

“The Saints Sheltering Us” based on Isaiah 25:6-9 and Revelation 21:16a

Our guts are clenched

We aren’t sure what comes next

Terrible options abound

It would be nice

to be on that mountain

or in the new Jerusalem

To be past the fears

to be assured of life

for things to be as God would wish

To be beyond sadness

to know no more grief

to be together in joy

Though the prayer echoes through the ages

thy kingdom come

on earth as it is in heaven

it isn’t

yet

Instead we gather

to remember the Saints

Bob who loved his wife too much to let her go

Harold who enjoyed absolutely everyone

Lois whose pure goodness flowed everywhere she went

Nancy who thirsted for knowledge and connection

Pat who loved kids to her core

Beryl whose devotion cared for many generations

June whose personality was its own source of gravity

We loved them

They formed us

They taught us

They loved us

These, the newest of our saints

now form the great cloud of witnesses

with those who where already there

So many we’ve loved and lost

and been formed by

So many saints

So much wisdom

resilience

humor

faith

care

love

joy

hope

Enough, it might seem

to make it through today

and tomorrow

This week

this month

this year

Enough to shelter this storm

Enough

There is love enough.

In them.

In us.

In God.

Thanks be.

Nov. 3, 2024

All Saints Sunday

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

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October 27, 2024
by Sara Baron

“Love God” based on Exodus 20:1-17 and Luke 10:25-28

The Gospel retelling of the central laws of Judaism are used in Luke as the opening to the parable of the Good Samaritan. I appreciate this opportunity to hear it stand alone though, a reminder that the central ideas of Judaism and Christianity line up.

Jesus says the answer that is in the Torah still stands, and then offers commentary on it, making sure that his followers remember that the neighbor who is to be loved is a neighbor in the most expansive of definitions.

The key commandments “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”’ I particularly love the way this is constructed as one commandment with two parts. There isn’t a separation between loving God and loving neighbors, they’re two sides of the same coin. We love God by loving our neighbors, when we love our neighbors, we are loving God. And yet, also there are ways that the two can be approached differently. Around here we LOVE taking care of each other and our neighbors in tangible ways, and showing God’s love by offering care and resources.

Sometimes, some of us, are less clear on what to do with that first half. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind,” What does that mean?

Perhaps sometimes we get confused by those who say that loving God is about living a particular type of pious life – one that doesn’t seem right to us. Or we get turned off by those who declare their particular prayer practices are THE WAY to connect with God, when clearly there are lots of paths. (For instance, those people who think getting up at 4AM to pray before starting the day. It is a valid choice, but not the ONLY valid choice.)

I’ve been enjoying reading about Celtic Christian Spirituality, and one of the big ideas in that world-view is that that the world is permeated with the Divine Spirit – that the world itself sparkles with wonder and awe and delight. That existence itself is an amazing miracle and everything we see – especially in nature – is glimmers with holiness.

Celtic Christianity also talks about the spiritual path as being one of remembering the sacredness of all creation, the value of all human life, the love of God that is everywhere in everything. It emphasizes that we are made good, that we know what we need to know already, we just need to remember.

Then, Celtic Christianity says, when we remember together, we can do things differently. We can build societies that reflect holiness and love and goodness and hope and mercy and grace. But first, we remember, and we remember by noticing the sacredness all around us and listening to it.

These days when I think about loving God, I think about it in those Celtic terms. I think about savoring goodness, noticing wonder, making space for awe. As you may have heard me say in other sermons, I’m all for other spiritual practices too! However, today, I want to focus on that attention to holy wonder.

It isn’t pious or self-righteous or prescriptive. It is just being, with gratitude. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength – and notice the wonder all around. Oh, and share love with others, because everyone is a part of God and beloved by God and worthy of love. (But we are already practicing that part.)

The 10 commandments as found in Exodus offer a further explanation of ways to live so that people love God and treat neighbors with love too. The first ones focus on loving God, the latter ones focus on treating each other well, and to my delight the middle one is the appropriate transition between them as it is both. The transition is the Sabbath:

Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. For six days you shall labour and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.

That Sabbath is everything! It is a time for noticing the wonder and awe, for loving God, for rest, and for SHARING rest with everyone else. John Dominic Crossan reminds me that in the Bible the first resource that is distributed is REST, and all the other distributions follow after rest. First, rest, for everyone. First, wonder for everyone. First, space for everyone to be human, that is to stop working and just be, that is to connect with each other, that is to connect with God, that is to connect and BE and not be distracted.

Loving God and each other. See, its all over that Bible of ours.

Our essay from We Cry Justice today reminds us that societal laws should be laws that protect everyone, especially the vulnerable. That just laws create justice. And, that the “laws” of the Bible set good precedent for this – I’d note, including that EVERYONE gets rest regardless of statues.

It also reminds us of the Social Principles in the United Methodist Church and our stance on Civil Disobedience, in this case the new principle sounds a lot like the old one:

We support those who, acting under the constraints of moral conscience or religious conviction and having exhausted all other legal avenues, feel compelled to disobey or protest unjust or immoral laws. We urge those who engage in civil disobedience to do so nonviolently and with respect for the dignity and worth of all concerned. We also appeal to all governmental bodies, especially the police and any other institutions charged with protecting public safety, to provide appropriate training and to act with restraint and in a manner that protects basic rights and prevents emotional or bodily harm to those engaged in civil disobedience.

That is, there is an affirmation that the rule of loving God and neighbor is the highest order of law, and we have a right to stand for it, although there may be consequences.

I think that for many people hearing the stories of others, and sitting in nature, and singing the songs of God, and regular experiences of Sabbath, and all those ways people can love God and nature, can FORM US into people truly able to follow the most basic commandment:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”’

It is easy to understand, and worth pursuing, but it isn’t exactly easy to live, is it?

Well, the more we love God and the more we love God’s people and creation, the easier it gets. Thanks be to God for that! Amen

October 27, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

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October 13, 2024
by Sara Baron

“For Everyone Born” based on Luke 14:7-14

Today, in our gospel lesson, we hear Jesus giving dinner party advice. Which is, let’s be honest, kind of unexpected from Jesus. To be fair, the Jesus Seminar thinks this narrative is Luke’s creation – it fits both Hebrew literature and Jesus’s priorities but seems a little bit too much like a narrative device. That said, it does fit both the values we hear throughout the Bible and from Jesus, so I think it is plenty worthy of our attention.

According to my beloved commentary A Social Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels:

“Dinners were important social occasions that were used to cement social relations. … It was very important who was invited. Moreover, accepting a dinner invitation normally obligated the guest to return the favor. Sometimes guests refused invitations knowing that the return obligation was more than they could or wish to handle.

… Table fellowship across status lines was relatively rare in traditional societies. In the inclusive early Jesus groups, it was an ideal that caused sharp friction on several counts. It was especially difficult for the elite, who risked being cut off by families and social networks if seen in public eating with persons of lower rank. That was especially so in the city (the setting for the text), where status stratification was sharp and members of the elite were expected to maintain it.”1

Well, that helps make sense of why this is in a gospel – this reflects the radicalness of the early Jesus movement and just how significant it was for people to dismiss the social norms. The early Jesus movement mixed people across class lines and dismissed the concept that anyone mattered more than anyone else and it was … well, just the opposite of how things worked then.

And maybe now.

While sometimes I want to think things are better now, when I look at social policy, I notice that our systems and structures treat those living in poverty as expendable. When it would be easier, cheaper, and more just ease people’s lives and we don’t – I can’t find many explanations other than we CHOOSE to enrich the elites at the cost of the lives of the poor and marginalized.

Maybe there isn’t social cost to going to the wrong party in the same way anymore- although that may depend on one’s social circle – but we still function as if some people are expendable and that’s the same core problem.

Thank God the Jesus movement saw through it. Thank God the Hebrew prophets saw through it, and Jesus helped too.

Thank God for each and every person who refuses to be at peace with anyone being expendable and truly believes we are all made in the image of God! My goodness it matters, and my goodness it requires us to keep reminding each other to pay attention!

It requires that we let go of hierarchies – for ourselves and for others. The gospels tells us to always sit at the bottom, instead of fighting for the top. And, we are to invite those whose presence will lower our social standing, instead of those who can help pick us up.

I wonder, if someone had followed Jesus’s advice in this (and I think they did), what it would be like to be one of “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” invited to a fancy dinner party for the elites. It seems like it might be terrifying. Would people have declined because they were playing by the rules and couldn’t repay the invitation – or agree because they were too hungry to care? Would they worry about what to wear and who else would be there? Would they be comforted or upset when others in their own social class were the other attendees?

Because, it turns out that the narratives of who matters are also taught to those society says don’t matter, and it isn’t easy to let go of it even when you know it is a falsehood.

What would it be like to be a host used to formal dinner parties with people engaging in social climbing, to suddenly be at a table with people you are used to ignoring and dismissing? Might it be uncomfortable? Refreshing? Would there be a lot of laughter? What might the host learn?

One of the things I learned in seminary studies of urban ministry is that people do best in mixed income housing situations. And they mean all people. Because we have so much to learn from one another. It benefits kids of families who are living in poverty to see other ways of life. It benefits those who are well off to see that those who are struggling are real people with gifts and passions, and to see their way of life. It creates stronger communities, with more empathy and more creative solutions when we don’t segregate ourselves – by any measure. Further, it encourages everyone to be generous with what they have which benefits all the givers and all the receivers. It makes generative space for everyone born.

It is funny to think of this dinner party. The host might teach about expected table manners, but the guests might be honest enough to admit what doesn’t taste very good 😉 Or exclaim with delight at a delicious bread the host had stopped noticing years ago. Or just be happy to be full, and remind the host that such a gift is one to be truly thankful for.

In our We Cry Justice reading, Carolyn Jean Foster imagines that shared table as a place for meaningful conversations between equal conversational partners – a pretty beautiful image that fits the Jesus movement well. She reminds us that people who are well off often try to solve issues of systemic poverty – but don’t actually understand them, “People who live in poverty know the solutions that would alleviate their suffering; they just do not have the resources. They need to be at the table.”2

In the world, this is still an oddity!! The world still seems to believe that those who are successful are more capable of solving problems for others instead of trusting that those who have experienced injustice are most capable of identifying their own problems.

But what a wonderful thing it is when people follow God’s way instead of the world’s ways! What a wonderful thing it is when we refuse honor, invite the unexpected guests, accept unexpected invitations, and learn from each other!

Now, you may not have noticed it, but socio-economic differences are not the only kind that exist. Around here they may not even be the ones we struggle with the most. I think for many of us, listening to those whose values differ from ours can be incredibly difficult, and even triggering. What would this gospel passage feel like if it said, “don’t invite those who already agree with you, invite those who are voting for a party line you abhor?”

Feels a little harder to me already. But, then I remember all the times God has worked in me to undermine my assumptions.

These floods and hurricanes recently have had me thinking about 2011 when there was major flooding in the town where I was pastoring. I ended up coordinating volunteers who came to help people, some of the holiest work of my life. It also put me in some positions I wouldn’t have otherwise agreed to be in. Some of the volunteers came from churches that didn’t permit women clergy, and refused to accept women’s authority – but they cared more about helping people than avoiding my leadership role. Some of the UM volunteers came from what are now GMC churches and we’d sit down and eat lunches on muddy former lawns and talk about things and realize how many places we disagreed – and how it didn’t seem to matter one little bit when we were both there to share love.

A few weeks ago I shared on facebook a recommended set of questions for just such a dinner party, “How to have conversations with people who disagree with you” which suggested asking:

Which life experiences have shaped your views?
Imagine for a moment that you got what you wanted in regards to this issue. How would your life change?
For those who disagree with you, what would you like them to understand about you?
What do you want to understand about those with whom you disagree?
What is this personally important to you?3

Those aren’t questions about changing each other’s minds, but they are about actually hearing each other- about re-humanizing each other – about learning! I may never agree with someone who wants to cut SNAP benefits, but it is entirely possible that I can learn form their perspective and come to a more nuanced understanding of what could work better than what we have now!

We are in conversations right now about creating some spaces to talk with those with whom we think we disagree. I think those are exactly the holy places Jesus wants to invite us into. The Gospel tells us so.

Thanks be to God for holy moments when we can speak and listen and be formed by our compassion into people even more able to love all of God’s people – everyone born. Amen

1Bruce J. Malina and Richard L. Rohrbaugh Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003) “Textual Notes: Luke 16:1-16” p. 285-6.

2Carolyn Jean Foster, “50: Band-aids or Justice” in We Cry Justice, ed. Liz Theoharis (Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2021) p. 217, used with permission.

3Source: Solutions Journalism, posted by “Unfundamentalist”

October 13, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

Pronouns: she/her/hers

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

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October 6, 2024
by Sara Baron

“Don’t Get in the Way” based on Psalm 133 and Romans 14:13-23

Every year when we prepare for World Communion, we ask ourselves where in the world our hearts are already extended. Which of our siblings in faith are we thinking of the most right now? Whose plight are we especially worried about? The whole world is hard to focus on – its just too big – but when we notice the reality of some of our siblings who are struggling, the compassion we send out to them helps us extend our compassion to the world.

This year we knew that our siblings in Western North Carolina and the whole swarth of the US Southeast impacted by Hurricane Helene hold our heartstrings. But so too do the Gazans, the West Bankers, the Lebanese, and those living fear in Israel. We hold the Ukrainians near and dear, but know was well that Russian citizens are struggling in the war path. Gaza and the Sudan are in the midst of catastrophic hunger, as are the Democratic Republic of Congo, Afghanistan, Yemen, and Syria.

So, given all that, we still listened to our hearts and let them lead us to our neighbors in the Southeast first and foremost. I looked up Western North Carolina bread and discovered Appalachian salt rising bread. It is a bread with a history of struggle – believed to be created by pioneer women on what was then the frontier who needed ways to help bread rise as they moved west. This is, of course, a story complicated by the fact that Native Americans lived in the lands they moved to – and there is an irony that the bread itself is made with ingredients that the European decedents moving west wouldn’t have known about if not for their Native American neighbors (cornmeal.)

We set the table to reflect those without abundance, even as we believe in God’s abundance. We thought about those who might not have tables, or whose tables likely lack tablecloths. We thought of those who now lack water, and may be drinking from bottled water for months.

Compassion has a way of leaking out. Because even as we think about those with damaged water systems, we thought of others who never had access to water, and of refugees trying to fill canteens along their way, and of those living in droughts, and of those whose water systems are unsafe… and the table expanded.

We picked one bread, even when sometimes we fill the altar and the table with bread and wheat in abundance, even when one bread can’t represent all the breads of the world, because while God has made abundance, many can’t access it. Some because of natural disasters, some because of human disasters, some because of the structures of human society. But also, one bread may represent all bread just as well as 10 or 20 do, because humans are SO diverse, and we make food in a lot of different ways. I didn’t know about this Appalachian Salt Rising Bread, and I’ve lived in the Appalachians for almost all my life. (I’m told Western New Yorkers may be familiar with it in some cases.)

Paul, in Romans, admonishes the followers of Jesus’s Way to avoid judgment and avoid hindering each other. I’ve always been particularly fond of this passage, and the way it acknowledges different places people may fall on their faith journey. Someone may need to avoid alcohol to be whole, if so, don’t tempt them with alcohol. Someone may need to avoid meat to meet their moral conscious. If so, feed them without giving them meat. If possible, avoid drinking alcohol or eating meat in front of someone who needs to abstain. Let people be faithful as they need to be faithful but most importantly DO NOT GET IN THEIR WAY.

I like the pragmatism of it, and the open-mindedness. I also adore the reminder not to judge, including not to judge how someone chooses to be faithful.

It fits this World Communion mindset of remembering how different we are. Some denominations will set their tables with wine – we don’t to make our table accessible to alcoholics, but each tradition has its value. Some will kneel at a rail, some will gather for actual meals, some will receive God’s gifts in groups, and the words of blessing will be offered in so very many different languages. And yet, in all the differences, one table remembering God’s love as known though Jesus.

Psalm 133 nails it.

How very good and pleasant it is
when kindred live together in unity!

Amen, and may God help make it so, and may we help too! Amen

October 6, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

Pronouns: she/her/hers

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

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September 29, 2024
by Sara Baron

“Kindom Come” based on Luke 14:16-30 and Revelation 21:1-4

Last Sunday several people mentioned that someone has been sleeping under the window to the church office. They weren’t complaining, just mentioning. Mostly because it is a bit of an unusual place for someone to sleep on this property. We all bemoaned the reality that we live in a society that doesn’t HOUSE all people, despite our collective wealth.

I’ve been thinking about it this week though. I’m simply aghast. The more I study the Bible and spend time with those who love God, the more the meta-narratives of capitalism lose their power. Because capitalism says life is a competition and you can win or lose. Worse, capitalism pretends it is an even playing field and blames those who can’t win for their burdens in life. Capitalism says the solution to hunger is to let hunger motivate people to work, the solution to people being unhoused is to let people get motivated to be housed, etc. Blame those who struggle. That’s the collective capitalistic narrative. Along with celebrate and praise those who “win” – even if the hoarding of wealth is exactly the reason so many people struggle so much.

In the face of the myths of capitalism, I am grateful to be a person of faith. I am grateful to spend time with people whose lives are defined by compassion. I am grateful to spend time with the Bible, and with the stories of Jesus calling out the “pre-industrial domination system” of his day so that we too can see the domination systems of our day.

More than anything though, I’m grateful to be able to hold a different vision of what things should be. It keeps me safe from those myths of capitalism that if we “just tweak it a little bit, everything will turn out fine.” I’ll admit it, sometimes it hurts to think about how things should be, because it clarifies how far we are from it. And yet, I’d rather dream with God of true justice than simply numb myself to the realities of the present.

In the end of Revelation, we are given an in depth consideration of the kin-dom of God on earth. That is, of God’s dream. The central idea is that there is no longer any distance between God and the people, and once that is true, all kinds of goodness flows. In fact, Revelation says sadness and even death will fall away. I guess, perhaps, the idea could be that if afterlife is union with God, then once there is no distance between God and people there is also no difference between life and death? I don’t know.

I do know that dreaming of life as God would have it be really matters. It grounds us. It aims us. It keeps us dreaming and hopeful. The Bible is full of clues about what God dreams for us. In the stories of the feeding of the 5000 we are reminded than when we trust enough to share what we have there ends up being more than enough for everyone. In the healing stories are are told that God cares about us being well – and being connected to each other so our communities can be well.

And in the gospel lesson today we are shown what it can look like to respond to violence with nonviolence. Jesus did set things off. He did. He was sharing God’s dreams and claiming them:

‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
   because The Holy One has anointed me
     to bring good news to the poor.
God has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
   and recovery of sight to the blind,
     to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’

The people respond, “isn’t this guy a poor man’s son, what right does he have to claim this dream as his to fulfill?” And then Jesus pushes their buttons by reminding them that God doesn’t care about human hierarchies – who is wealthy or important, who is powerful or healthy, who “matters or doesn’t.” God cares about PEOPLE, and Jesus claims God’s dreams as a person who also cares about people.

Time and time again we see that turning the world right side up is deeply threatening to those who hold undue power in the upside down world we know best. And those who hold undue power will keep it through any means necessary – usually starting with violence. So Jesus sets them off, they respond with violence, and he simply walks away.

How?

We don’t know. I mean, I like thinking of it like one of those cartoons where the people trying to harm someone are so chaotic that the intended victim just crawls out of the pile unscathed, but that’s probably only because I can’t think of any other way to conceive of it.

In a story that will become repetitive though, violence comes for Jesus. And violence is used to getting its own way. But Jesus sees through it all. He sees the violence for what it is, and what it intends to accomplish and he simply dismisses it. Maybe this story is really just foreshadowing his death and resurrection. Violence can bring its worst, and it can wreck incredible havoc, but God’s love CANNOT be stopped. Not even death stops God’s work in the world. You can’t beat it down. You can’t threaten it into obedience. You can’t stop God’s love.

You can take it to the top of the cliff intending to throw it off, and God’s love just walks away.

Violence is the domain of the empowered, but violence holds no power over God’s love.

I think, for me, remembering that nonviolence is the way of Jesus and the expression of God’s love is an inroad into understanding the kindom of God.

A place with no violence. No one is raped. No one is murdered. No one is abused. No one is neglected. No one is bullied. No one is threatened. No one is poked and prodded into being a smaller, weaker version of their full selves. No one lives in fear.

And to be without fear would imply that basic needs are being met. People are clothed, housed, medically cared for, fed well, and able to get good sleep. Because when you don’t have those things, fear creeps in.

I remember hearing Walter Brueggemann lecture on Pharaoh and the power of the Empire – and being surprised when he started to talk about the importance of universal healthcare. But for him, the Empire keeps people down with fear and violence, and to be free from that fear and violence includes being able to be healed when sick or injured. He then went on to talk about what would happen in our society if people weren’t obligated to work full time jobs to maintain and pay for healthcare. He talked about artists being able to make art, and parents being able to give attention to their children, about those who were sick being able to stop working to heal, those who had dreams for making things better being able to take the leap to follow their dreams. That all of that got easier if health insurance wasn’t tied to full time work.

The kindom. The fear-free kindom of God.

You see how nonviolence is an inroad, and once we start walking that path all sorts of wonders become possible? For me that idea of death and sadness going away is just hard to fathom, it is so far away. But the wonder that can come with each step towards nonviolence, that’s worth seeking.

What if society weren’t so scary? What if it wasn’t a competition to live? What impact would that have? I think perhaps it could improve everyone’s mental health, lower the desire to numb out with addictive substances, and make a whole lot of space for the true delights of life – chats with friends, games, walks in the woods, gardening, … laughter.

Jesus set things off. MLK Jr. did too. So, too, does this church. Its in your DNA. We travel the path of nonviolence, we travel guided by God’s unstoppable love, we travel towards fearlessness and resilience. We travel the way of the kindom of God, bringing others along with us and trodding down the path to make it easier for those who will follow us.

Dear ones, each and every time we choose love and nonviolence in our words and our actions, in our decisions and our values, we build the kindom of God. Our lives matter because we too are asked to turn the world right side up, and God is working with us to make what we do matter for the long run.

Imagine. Just imagine, what it will be like when fear can take the backseat and love can be in control! Its worth dreaming. Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

September 29, 2024

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September 22, 2024
by Sara Baron

“Who We Are” based on Exodus 3:1-14a and Mark 9:30-35 (Homecoming Sunday)

I was once lucky enough to spend a term studying at Oxford, specifically at Magdalen College, where a portion of the campus was referred to as the “New Quad” and dated to about 1733. The day after I arrived back in the United States I heard on the radio about a “great historical find” of a 100 year old Buffalo Bill poster. I remember wondering what the people at Magdalen would call something so new as to be only 100 years old.

This congregation was founded in that same century as the new quad… although a little later. We were founded in 1789, and our current church building dates to almost a hundred years later, in 1872. We’ve now been in this building for 152 years, although like Americans, we don’t refer to it as the new church anymore 😉

Our history books tell wonderful stories of the faithfulness of our fore-bearers in faith, and their commitment to God and each other. They also tell stories of change! This is the 3rd church building this community built – 4th location, and as it was being built the first worship space as over the fellowship hall in a space we mostly don’t use anymore. The now Wesley Lounge was the original church office, and the education wing didn’t come along until the 1950s. Bill Isles once said he’d been fighting leaks in the roof since then.

I’m often awed as I look at the long list of pastors who have served this church – found on the walls just before you enter the Narthex. It is also notable how many years of one-year service there was in those early days. Maybe the biggest change in the list of clergy is the relatively recent inclusion of women, staring 45 years ago with Rev. Eileen Demming.

I also think about the technological changes that have happened over the course of this church’s history. When the church began the US Postal Service was brand new and Post Offices were just beginning to be build. This church saw the advent of the telegram, the radio, the telephone, electric lights, television, fax machines, the internet and email, cell phones and text messages, social media, and even Zoom. Thanks Thomas Edison and GE! These all impacted how life was lived, and thus how ministry played out. Honestly, 5 years ago we lacked live-streaming and Zoom meetings – can you even remember that??

This week we had a meeting to plan our fall retreat – and it was so interesting to hear the beloved traditions of the past meet the needs and values of the present day. I loved it because that’s pretty must the gist of everything. In Christianity we talk about the “Living Tradition” where we honor and respect the past, and use its wisdom, while bringing it into the present day and leaving behind what no longer serves us while adding in what we now need. Everything in church is Living Tradition as I see it – from the church retreat to the worship liturgy, from coffee hour to the church library.

We have this constant awareness of and gratitude for the past, while also holding the present and the future together. Over the course of the past year we’ve made some plans for more change. While this building was bustling with ministry activities in the 1950s, it is now more building than we really need. The maintenance and upkeep of the building take a lot of energy and resources, we love it, but it drains us. This church has decided to go forward, looking at ways this building can be a resource for the community while also becoming a source of financial stability.

I’ve was awed and amazed to watch the Holy Spirit at work in this community as this way forward was discerned. The part I loved best was watching various groups of people gather together with fear and trepidation about the future, and then think about what it could mean if our building could be used fo provide low-income housing AND financial stability, and see each group get excited and hopeful.

It is a huge change, and it is going to take a lot of work, but the decision is one that was made with incredible faithfulness. And, it is a continuation of the history of change and the reality of the living tradition.

In Exodus this morning we heard the familiar story of Moses encountering the burning bush and hearing God’s name. The New Interpreter’s Bible emphasizes the verbs of God in this passage. God says, “I have seen… I have heard… I have known… I will send…. I am.” It may just be me, but I hear the living tradition right there! God is “The Great I Am”, or “I Am Who I Am” or “I Will Be Who I Will Be” but God is also impacted by what God sees and hears, and acts accordingly. God’s nature is constant – loving mercy all the way through AND God is responsive to human needs and activities.

I loved that our “We Cry Justice” reading reminded us that after Moses saw the burning bush, and went to do what God directed, and the people were freed, and they came out to the wilderness, they returned to the burning bush. And it is there, in the place they are told that God heard them, saw them, considered them, cared for them, and that God simply was, that they work together to figure out the future as God’s beloveds.

In this story, the burning bush is sort of interesting in that it’s only purpose was to get Moses’s attention so that he’d listen to God. Also, there is an angel, but the angel does say or do anything, the angel’s only purpose is to get Moses’s attention so that he’ll listen to God. The bush isn’t the message. The angel isn’t the message. God just wants Moses to pay attention.

I suspect that God puts burning bushes in front of us multiple times a day. Thich Naht Hahn taught that in the communities he founded every time a bell rang the community members were to take a moment to stop, listen, and pay attention to the wonder all around them. He said that it changed the way they answered the phone. I believe there may be fewer bells and notifications in monastic life than modern life, but perhaps that makes it far MORE important for us to try that exercise. Every time a bell rings, a phone vibrates, or an app gives us a notification we too could stop, listen for a moment, and be grateful for the wonder around us.

I don’t know about you, but that’s a lot of times a day for me. And that’s just BELLS. It is also true that in every other human being we encounter a beloved of God, and they may each be a burning bush inviting us to attend to the wonder of each human.

Sometimes God calls us to sit still, and just be. Sometimes God calls us to move, and just be. (I think all of us are called to both at various times.)

I suspect we all could get better at listening to those calls. How do you get them? What is your burning bush? Could it be bells? Notifications? Other people? An internal sense of unease? Maybe just hungry – it may be that we want to think anew about the tradition of table grace, and face each time we nourish our bodies as the true and wonderful miracle it is, and take a moment to be grateful to God and all the people who make it possible for us to eat and drink each thing before us.

I wrote in the August newsletter about my hopes that we would take this election cycle and time of uncertainty as an invitation to deepen our spiritual practices so that we can respond out of being centered in God’s grace. I intended to keep talking about it through August but… well, life went ahead and changed on me and here I am back in the pulpit as of today.

It is so easy to be pulled off kilter by the truly concerning realities around us.

I believe the question for us today, the question of who we are becoming, is how we can care as deeply as ever, while also being able to hold our center. Psalm 1 talks about the people who delight in God as being like trees planted by streams of water, “which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither.” It is my conviction that God is a constant source of love, hope, peace, and joy. God is always with us, God is calling to us with our own burning bushes, God is accessible. We are able to connect to the source of love, hope, peace, and joy. We are able to be like trees planted by the streams – with deep roots in God’s goodness. And when do so, we are able to be stronger in our compassion for others AND our centeredness that cannot be shaken.

Many of us are worried about what will happen. We are also, of course, worried about what is happening and what has happened. Things are not as they should be, and even the most optimistic outcomes aren’t going to solve issues like hungry, homelessness, war, and violence. We are people of faith in the midst of a broken AND beautiful world.

The Bible is full of stories of being in a beautiful and broken world, and finding God in the midst of it. This is just how things go. We don’t get to wait for things to be OK before we deepen our faith. Faith happens in the midst of reality.

In Mark, we hear the line, “whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Jesus saw the hierarchies of his world, and he had no patience for them. He inverted everything he could, and led people to question the very idea that someone should be at the bottom (or top) of a hierarchy.

This is one of the core messages of our faith. This is part of who we are becoming as we connect more and more deeply with God. God’s unconditional love for all people becomes the most important truth and everything else fades away. Along with changing how we see others, this also changes how we see ourselves and loosens the grip of the narrative that we are supposed to compete to be “good enough to be loved.” We are loved. That’s the first thing we teach each other in faith. God loves us. All. That’s where it all begins, and I think even where it all ends.

We have a long history of sharing God’s love with each other and the world. And the changes that are coming are yet another expression of love. And, no matter what the world throws at us – let’s deepen our roots into God’s goodness so we are ready to respond with love and love alone. Amen

September 22, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

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July 14, 2024
by Sara Baron

“Leave a Little” based on Deuteronomy 24:17-21 and Luke 12:22-34

Our essay today started with a quote from Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I want you to hear it again, it is very important:

“The church must reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority.”1

Some of us, these days, are struggling a little bit with “the state” and both how it is in present and how it may be in the future. Dr. King reminds us of our role. Guide, critic, conscience, prophet. Dear ones, things are not as we nor God want them to be, and it is possible they’re going to get worse before they get better. Still, called to be guide, critic, conscience, prophet. In some ways we have little power. Doesn’t matter. The world won’t get better if we stop dreaming God’s dreams and sharing them. In these roles, we are people called to speak to the power of nonviolent, peaceful change.

We are to be a lovelight to the world. That lovelight shines out hope into the world, reminds people of the love in which we were all formed, directs us to peace – AND that lovelight illuminates injustice and brings attention to places love is needed, that lovelight doesn’t become complicit with harming the vulnerable, it seeks the common good, it shows us all the way when we fear there isn’t a way.

Our passages today remind us of God’s visions and what the lovelight is meant to illuminate. Deuteronomy tells the people how things should be, and that includes careful care of those who are struggling. Everyone is told to only go through their crops once to harvest, and whatever is dropped or forgotten should be left for those who are hungry. The people are told, as well, to be careful with widows, to offer justice to the ones without legal standing – the immigrants and the orphans. Those who had once been without power are told to treat those without power well.

Dear ones, we can’t create that world by sheer willpower, but we can love on it until it softens and moves in that direction. And our own actions can matter along the way – however it is that we practice “leaving our fields for the poor to be able to glean.” These are the means of peace.

In Luke we hear Jesus speaking – and I am reminded that he is speaking mostly to people who are vulnerable. Where in Deuteronomy the vulnerable were those without standing and without power – the widows, orphans, and immigrants, by the time of Jesus the Roman Empire had ensured a much larger portion of the population was struggling. Jesus mostly spoke to, for, and about those who were poor.

And he tells them not to worry. Which doesn’t really make sense. Hungry people worry about food. Those without clothes worry about clothes. But Jesus says, “don’t worry.” Jesus reminds them that God’s wish is for them to be well fed, well clothed, and unafraid. It is, I think, a retelling of Deuteronomy – God’s way is for everyone to have enough. Live your lives so those who have less than you do will still have enough. Leave a little, and everyone will get a little. God is interested in a society that cares for those who are the worst off, God judges society by how they care for their most vulnerable.

So, dear ones, that’s how we focus our interest and how we judge societies too. That guides where we shine our lovelight, and how long we hold it where people need to see.

The fields left for the poor to glean is a hard thing for me to wrap my head around – maybe it was for Jesus’s followers too. I think about lawsuits I’ve heard about where gigantic seed companies sue small farmers for growing crops without buying their seeds – when the seeds could well have been carried by the wind. I think about no trespassing signs, and gated communities, and even ancient Roman compounds presided over by a patriarch, and all of it sounds so different from an assumption that you should leave a little bit in your field, and let anyone who needs it come and gather it.

In the book of Ruth one of the plot points centers around this gleaning. Ruth and her mother-in-law were widows and had no one to advocate for them in the legal system of their day. Ruth went out to glean in Boaz’s fields and Boaz was unusually generous. He instructed water to be share with her, he asked the field workers to drop more than they needed to. He fed her lunch, he told the workers not to bother her even if she gleaned first. All very generous, all – we’re told – a form of courting. But nevertheless, the assumption in the story is that Ruth had the right go into the field in broad daylight and gather whatever she could, and take it home to feed herself and her kin. The gleaning wasn’t done in secret, or under the light of the moon, or under the threat of violence. The fields were left for those who needed them, and those who needed were WELCOME to come gather what they needed. Without fear. Without accusation. Without having to hide. Maybe even without shame. Just – able to get what they needed from anywhere they could find it.

Meanwhile, in our society, our Supreme Court ruled that it is ok to arrest people for sleeping outside – even when they are homeless and have no place to sleep inside. We made it ILLEGAL to be a person who has to sleep. Pretty much the poplar opposite of this Deuteronomy passage and the society it sought to create, huh?

Friends, things are not now as they should be. Things may get worse. The very purpose of a society – to care for the vulnerable – may continue to get lost in the shuffle.

What we can do is remain steadfast. Listen to God’s dreams, and let them soak in. Shine our love-lights. We can see and name what isn’t write, see and name how things should be. We can support each other in our dreaming. We can keep on listening for God’s nudges in our lives. We can soak in peace, hope, and love so we have them to share, we can seek out joy so we can keep on keeping on.

Gleaning is an old, old concept, but it is a beautiful one. It is one that maybe we can play with, work with, consider how it might be lived out today. Gleaning can give us hope about other ways to form society, about remembering that God’s dreams are reachable.

We can give each other hope. We can be peace.

We can give the world hope. We can be peaceable.

And the best part is that God’s dreams are available to us in the Bible, through each other, in nature, and through modern prophets. God’s goodness is everywhere, God’s love knows no ends.

The world may say there isn’t enough, but we say there is so much that even the gleanings are enough for those in need.

We can be people of abundance even in a world that believes in scarcity. We can be people of peace, no matter what the world brings.

We can be a lovelight. Let’s keep on shining. Amen

1Claire Chadwich “A Harvest for All People” in We Cry Justice (Minneapolis, 2021), p. 33.