“Testing Kinship Loyalty” based on Deuteronomy 26:1-11 and Luke…

March 6, 2022
by Sara Baron

I’ve got to admit it. I’m not
tempted by the things Jesus was “tempted” by in the dessert. I
have never once wanted to change a rock into bread (perhaps because I
lack that skill???), I’m well aware that running kingdoms or even
democracies is incredibly difficult work that I don’t wish to partake
in, and I do not wish to test God by jumping off high places for no
reason.

Nope. I do not resonate with
these.

There are not my temptations.

You want to know what my
temptations are? These days I have serious temptations to stop
fighting – to just give up on the pandemic and stop trying to be
safe and stop trying to create safe places. I want to do CRAZY
things like bring my kid to worship, or have dinner at a friend’s
house, or get a plane and meet one of my dear friend’s new babies. I
want to just stop worrying. I want to make people happy. I want to
encourage people, “sure, do whatever you want in worship. Take of
masks! Stop distancing! Sing! Don’t worry about it!” I’m
tempted to just give up.

AND

(and this is the really annoying
part)

I’m also tempted in exactly the
opposite way. I live in constant fear that a choice I make will
result in my unvaccinated, too young to wear a mask kid getting COVID
and living with long covid for the rest of their life. And so, I
want to create a bubble and never leave it. I want to stay home,
stop day care, have groceries delivered, and function on zoom until
…. forever I guess.

Actually, if I’m honest, more
than really being tempted by either extreme, I’m tempted by the idea
of not having to decide anymore. “Is this safe?” “Is this
safe ENOUGH?” “Is this worth it?” “If this results in my
kid having long covid, in 20 years will I think this was the right
choice?” “Do I need to do this because someone else’s needs
outrank my own (or outrank my needs related to my kid)?” “Is
this the right balance of caution and courage?”

I’m so tired. It is so tempting
to move to one extreme or the other and just stop deciding. It is so
tempting to move to one extreme or the other and only have one group
of people frustrated with me and my decisions.

The temptation is to just…
give up. To pick an extreme and live with the consequences and at
the very least not have to decide OVER and OVER and OVER again.

This likely isn’t even relevant
to most of you anymore. Maybe you remember it, but those who are
vaccinated and immunocompetent, those of you who don’t live with
people who are either unvaccinated or immunocompromised, are possibly
just feeling free now. Numbers are down, and lots of very reasonable
people are ready to go on with life, for good reason. And for you,
it may even be that my temptations are a sort of unpleasant reminder
of your past, one that you’d rather forget.

I also know that I’m not alone.
There are plenty of families with kids under 5, or with
immunocompromised people, or even just people who work with kids or
immunocompromised people who still adjust their lives to protect
others – or just people who adjust their lives to protect others.
People make these choices because, in the end, they think it is
right.

Of course, there are ALSO people
who have decided that the needs of connection, or the life-giving
work they do, or the risk they’ve assessed mean that letting go of
fear and seeking out other people is the right choice for them.

Hmmm.

I guess what I’m saying is that
I’m tempted by simple answers, by choices I can make once and not go
back to, by CLARITY, but CERTAINTY. I don’t need to be able to make
the choices for everyone or have them be the same, but my goodness
gracious I’d like some simple answers for ME. I’d likely settle for
a single simple answer, if I could get one.

If you’ve been listening to me
preach for some time, you may be scratching your head at how I, one
of the people you know who is most comfortable thinking in shades of
gray could get to such a desire for certainty, for black and white
answers. The answer is unfortunately simple: the higher anxiety
goes, the more humans search for certainty and wish to back it up at
all costs. So, what you are hearing is that I’m a human impacted by
anxiety. Just to put it out there, so are you. Welcome to the
2020s.

Bruce Malina and Richard
Rohrbaugh in “Social Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels”
point out that what Jesus is being tested on in the desert is his
loyalty to God. Does he show faithfulness to God, as kin? Does he
show faithfulness to God as his leader? Does he show faithfulness to
God in understanding God’s wishes? The answers, of course, are yes.

But I rather liked that they
referred to the question about commanding a stone to become bread as
a test of kinship loyalty to God. They explain it this way:

Note carefully how the devil
frames the first challenge, “If you are the Son of God…”
Precisely that has been the claim and precisely that is what is being
tested.

Note also how carefully Jesus
answers when his lineage is questioned. He does not
answer in his own words, as if his honor derives from what he is in
himself. To do that would be to grasp honor above that of his own
Father and turn honor into dishonor. So he answers as a loyal Middle
Eastern son would always answer – with something from his family
tradition. He offers the words of his true Father in Deuteronomy and
by such laudable behavior he gains honor as virtue.¹

A test of kinship loyalty to
God. That does resonate.

Probably because all the angles
of what I’m tested by are variations on the theme of “a test of
kinship loyalty.” What is my loyalty to my immediate family – my
child and others who are vulnerable? How do I balance that with my
loyalty to my church family – which includes people who are
vulnerable in all sorts of ways including in needs to be together and
in needs to lower COVID risks. How do I balance THAT with my
“kinship loyalty” to God?

And suddenly, with that framing,
at the very least, I can understand why I feel pulled in so many ways
and exhausted by the pressure of every decision. Kinship loyalty
itself pulls me in a multitude of directions, and each direction has
its own set of reasons why it is right good, and most of the time
each direction has something pulling in exactly the opposite
direction that ALSO has reasons for being right and good.

But, at least I have a frame to
make sense of it!

And, if I want to simplify
things, I can admit to myself that for me, kinship loyalty to God is
not actually distinct from kinship loyalty to those I already care
for. (With the possible exception that God would likely include ME
in my calculations, which I notably did not.)

So, the long and short of it is
that I FEEL the testing, I feel the wandering in the desert, I feel
the yearning for clarity, but, at least I know it all comes from
love?

And THAT gets me to the
absolutely fabulous Deuteronomy reading. It is a favorite of mine.
Deuteronomy is set in the wilderness, but at the edge of it. The
whole book presents itself as a series of speeches given to prepare
the people before they enter the Promised Land, so that when they get
there, they’ll do it right.

One of the themes of Deuteronomy
is that it is in the adversity and challenge of the desert that the
people learned to depend on God, and it is going to be more
challenging to remember their dependence on God when things are going
well. As a person who feels like I’m wandering in the desert, I
think I respond along with those who listened the first time, “Yeah,
that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The reading says that when they
get there, and they grow things, there is going to be an ABUNDANCE,
as that is what God wants for the people. As they grow that
abundance, as they settle into a sense of food security, they’re to
remember their wanderings and give thanks for their abundance. And
as that happens, they are to REMEMBER their story, they are to
REMEMBER their scarcity, they are to REMEMBER what it took to get
there.

Isn’t that interesting? I think
in our culture we tend toward wanting to remember the glory days, not
the days of struggle. We think about when we were strong and
capable, not when we were … struggling to find our way in the
desert.

But, the idea of this
commandment to tithe is to do so while recounting struggles, and to
give thanks for abundance by noticing what it took to get there. AND
THEN taking of that abundance to share with those who don’t have it
(the landless priests and Levites and the foreigners without land
allotments.)

This whole thing just moves me.
That idea that we recognize our weak times, the idea that abundance
is God’s will for us (the culmination of the story), the reality that
the first thing to do with abundance is to share it, the creation of
a system whereby an abundance for some makes life possible for
others, and within all this that this is where our tradition of
offering comes from which is just so cool.

The culmination of the story is
abundance. The people are being taught how to distribute God’s
abundance fairly. They may be standing on the edge of the Promised
Land, but the goal is to get there and live there and have it be just
for everyone.

(And they did! For centuries!
And it was equitable! It is possible! That matters too.)

So for me, right now, in my
place of being tested in the desert, I’m going to take hope from the
story about abundance, and the reminder that it is God’s long term
plan for me, for us, for all of us.

That doesn’t actually solve
anything in the present, but it is unsolvable. However, having some
hope helps me get through. Abundance is God’s plan for all of us.
God teaches us how to be generous with our abundance. Kinship
loyalty to everyone is how we get there, and I guess… learning how
to balance a multiplicity of needs within the kinship network is.. a
useful skill?

Well, in any case, hear the
words the people were to say as they brought forward their offerings:

“A wandering Aramean was my
ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in
number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous.
When
the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard
labor on us,
we cried to the LORD, the God of our ancestors; the
LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our
oppression.
The LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand
and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with
signs and wonders;
and God brought us into this place and gave us
this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.
So now I bring the
first of the fruit of the ground that you, O LORD, have given me.”

or perhaps:

“I have emerged from a
confused and lost people. In the midst of existent struggles with
justice and equity, came a pandemic that threatened everything and
everyone in many ways. The challenges that might have united people
overcame them and separated them. We became harsh to each other. I
did not know what to do. I was never certain of anything.

I cried to the Lord, as did
everyone else, and God heard our voices,

and offered us rest.

God guided us when we didn’t
know where to go.

God gifted us when we couldn’t
figure out which way to turn.

God was with us, when we were
numb.

God did that, and brought us to
a new world, and helped us form it into something better.

So now, I bring the first fruit
of hope, that you, O God have given me.”

May the day come when we can say
THAT as we bring forward our offerings. Amen

1 p. 240-41
(Textual Notes: Luke 4:3)

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

March 6, 2022

Uncategorized

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August 1, 2021
by Sara Baron

“Every. Single. Time.” based on Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15

As far as I can tell, the stories of the wandering in the desert are stories of the people learning dependence on God. Many of the stories of Exodus repeat the narrative “(1) Something was wrong, the people were worried. (2) The people complained. (3) God provided.” Since deserts aren’t super hospitable to life, they make sense as places people can learn their dependence. The writer of Deuteronomy ends up worrying that once the people enter the “land of milk and honey” they’ll forget that they are dependent on God. In the early centuries of Christianity the “Desert Fathers and Mothers” returned to the desert to seek connection with the Divine, and learn again the lessons of dependence.

Historically, there are some reasons to question the overarching narrative of the 40 year wandering in the desert. It may be MORE true that some of the proto-Israelites were desert nomads for a prolonged time in their history, and some of the proto-Israelites were slaves who had escaped from Egypt, and some of the proto-Israelites were Canaanites who decide to follow YHWH when the nomads and former slaves told their stories about YHWH. I rather like this idea, because it is pretty easy to see how nomadic hunter-gatherers in a harsh desert climate would definitely experience the gift of life as a gift from God. And, that their descendants who lived a more settled and fertile existence could relatively quickly change their minds about how lucky they are to be simply alive.

I rather like how these stories begin. The people are frightened for their lives. There is a lack of FOOD or WATER, and those are seriously dangerous lacks. The stories present frightened people as appropriately and realistically negative. They grumble. They mumble. They complain. They romanticize their former lives. In this case, they say, “If only we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.“ And, I’ll admit, I feel for Moses and Aaron. That ISN’T FAIR. It isn’t even TRUE. But, I also feel for the people, because when humans are frightened for their lives, they really can’t be held accountable for being “unfair” much less have reasonable perspective.

In these Exodus stories, every single time, God intervenes and provides. EVERY SINGLE TIME. Sometimes Moses and Aaron get annoyed, sometimes God gets annoyed, sometimes as a reader it gets annoying that they don’t learn how to trust faster, but God provides EVERY SINGLE TIME.

And I have some feelings about that, because in our world today there is both an abundance of food and an abundance of hunger. Based on both the stories of our faith and the miraculous food producing capacity of the earth, I’m pretty sure that the story is STILL that God provides. But… human beings get in the way. We hoard (the US government is one of the worst), we promote “competition” for who gets to eat, we blame the hungry for being hungry, and we permit wealth to rise to the top no matter the cost to the bottom.

God provides.

Humans intercept.

The challenge is not scarcity – there is enough. There is MORE than enough. The problem is distribution . That is, the problem is acting out the belief that all people are worthy of surviving and thriving, as beloveds of God.

Around here, we try to do our part to change that story. We promote the humanity and belovedness of all people. We have a free breakfast, and we give people extra food to help them make it through the week. We advocate for policies to alleviate hunger everywhere in the world. We donate to SICM and help with summer lunches. We educate ourselves about food distribution, and work with “Bread for the World.” Our tithes and offerings promote justice and compassion programs around the world, and our extra gifts to UMCOR just add on to it.

But, it is a big problem and there is lot of work to be done to BOTH feed all of God’s people AND change policies so we don’t allow anyone to be hungry.

Some of the reason I said all that is because it is true. Another reason is because I’m about to take this story metaphorically, and I could not do so in good faith until I also took the literal meaning of hungry people seriously as well. Especially now when A LOT more people are hungry world wide then were before the pandemic.

When I first considered this passage, my attention was drawn to that complaining and yearning for Egypt. It seemed worth talking about our yearning for what used to be, and how the yearning can erase the realities of the past – things like slavery for example. Much of what I hear, and a good portion of what I experience these days is a yearning for pre-pandemic times. Recently, after I’d shared a bit about how odd it was to give birth during a pandemic and how unexpected parenting a baby during a pandemic has been, a perspective person said, “Well, and you got pregnant before the pandemic, you didn’t sign up for any of this.”

I sighed with relief, like you do when someone really understands. Also, I think that applies to all of us a little bit. The things we were thinking about, planning, and even worrying about 2 years ago all changed on us in early 2020. And we didn’t sign up for this! The stressors and conflicts we live now we wouldn’t have been able to dream 2 years ago. And we didn’t sign up for this.

2 years ago wasn’t great. It really wasn’t. There were serious injustices happening, and the things we were worried about were real. Comparatively though, I see why we want to go back. I can even see why the people grumbling in the desert would have wanted to go back. With death looming, anything else looks better. But Egypt wasn’t their future, it was their past. And we aren’t going back to pre-pandemic times either.

The wandering in the desert, as the story says, was important for forming the people, forming their faith, teaching them their dependence on God. It got them ready for the Promised Land, but it was so hard and so terrifying, there were a lot of times they thought going back was worth it. Without knowing what the Promised Land would be like, or when they would get there, the only things they knew were the terrifying lack of resources of the desert and the utter oppression of slavery.

For most of us, our pre-pandemic times weren’t THAT bad, but I hear people saying now, “Having had a break from it all, I don’t want to live like that anymore.” We’re different. We’ve been formed by this time in the desert. We’re still being formed by this time in the desert. I’m not sure when the Promised Land is coming.

As much as the desire to go back to Egypt caught my initial attention, I couldn’t help but notice that it is only the beginning of this story. This isn’t the story of landing in the Promised Land. This is a story of having God provide. This is a story of there being BREAD on the ground in the desert that would sustain the people AND quails flying overhead for protein, and both of them being gifts of life from the God of life. (In the desert, where other people didn’t interfere with God’s gifts.)

This is the story where God says, “’At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the LORD your God.’” And then when it happened, and the bread showed up, the people said, “What is it??????”

And this is where I think God is leading me today.

We’re in the desert, dear ones. Whatever our roles and circumstances were in Egypt, it is far behind. Whatever our roles and circumstances will be in the Promised Land, we aren’t there yet. We are DEEP in the desert, learning our dependence on God. And that means that God is giving us gifts that we desperately need to survive.

And most likely we’re responding along the lines of “Huh?” or “What is THAT?” Or “I’m not sure I want that.” Maybe more than anything we’re thinking, “I’d rather have bread from Pereccas, or Gershons, or Friehofers.” These gift that God is giving, we might not even recognize them. We might not want them. We might be a little horrified.

Today’s story ends with Moses telling the confused and hungry people, “It is the bread that YHWH has given to you to eat.”

What is the bread that God is giving to you to eat right now? How are you feeling about it?

Holy One, help us see what you are giving us, and help us receive nourishment from what you offer. We are tired, weary, weak, and frightened people. Your nourishment is what we need to go on, and we know that this desert wandering is not your final plan for us. Amen

August 1, 2021

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