Skip to content
First United Methodist Church Schenectady
  • Lenten Photo Show
  • About Us
    • Meet the Pastor
    • Committees
    • Contact Us
    • Calendar
    • Our Building
    • The Pipe Organ
    • FAQs
    • Wedding Guidelines
  • Worship
    • Sermons
    • Online Worship
  • Ministries
    • Music Ministries
    • Children’s Ministries
    • Volunteer In Mission
    • Carl Lecture Series
  • Give Back
    • Electronic Giving
  • Events
    • Family Faith Formation
Uncategorized

Untitled

  • July 8, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Shared Burdens, Shared Resources” based on 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13 and James 5:1-6

When we gather at the communion table, we are reminded time and time again that we are united by sharing from one loaf, by receiving from one cup. We receive the body of Christ to be the Body of Christ. We TOGETHER do the work of Christ in the world, we are fed together so we can act together.

We also talk a lot in the church about being church family, it happens enough that it becomes a struggle in hymn selection! I love kinship language, but I want us to use the more inclusive “siblings” and instead of the far more common “brothers and sisters.” Not that brothers and sisters is bad language, its good, its just not BEST.

Our Biblical passages today are also about being united in Christ, and becoming family to one another, although they come at it from a slightly different angle.

As we heard in Rev. Dr. Theoharis’s essay, the often abused quote “He who does not work shall not eat” is not about condemning the poor and declaring it a person’s own fault they live in poverty. Instead, 2 Thessalonians calls out the rich who aren’t doing their fair share to care for the community. Because, those who can do so have been resting on their wealth without worrying about those who are starving. They are called on to share the burdens of the community, and to share the resources they all have.

Get up, the writer implores. The writer isn’t calling everyone to labor in the fields, but he is calling everyone to contribute.

Sometimes, I find my internal voices telling me that only some work counts… and somehow the work that “counts” is NEVER the work I’ve been getting done. That’s my own internal voices not God 😉

The writer is urging followers of Christ to interdependence. If one person has enough not to work, but their sibling in Christ does not, then the work is not done until the sibling can eat too!

John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movements, grew up in poverty as a preacher’s kid and became a preacher. He was an unusually good preacher though, enough so that his sermons were printed and sold, and made a lot of money. John Wesley was convinced by his understanding of God and the Bible that his wealth was not his own, and so he gave it away. He shared what he had with those who were struggling the most. One winter, when he was 80 years old, the cold was especially bad and the poor were struggling immensely. John Wesley begged on the streets of London – not for himself but for those who were impoverished – the ones he’d already given his own wealth to.

I’m pretty sure that fits with God’s vision.

You may have noticed that as much as 2 Thessalonians pushes on the rich, James is harsher. James is vicious against the rich. (For some of us, this is pretty squirmy stuff. I’m not going to resolve that reality, but I am acknowledging it. It turns out following Jesus is hard.)

James says that those who are rich now will suffer later. All their wealth will rot and rust, and they’ll be held accountable for the ways their wealth was accumulated. “The wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts.” James warns those who live in luxury build on the labor of others that they are culpable for the harm done to the others.

These passages are saying the same thing. We are responsible for each other. We are community, kin, interconnected. And if we treat others unfairly, that’s on us. If we are in community, we need to work for everyone’s well being. Following Jesus isn’t about getting comfortable or “taking care of number 1.” It is about expanding our hearts and our lives until we are able to truly “love our neighbors as ourselves.”

We now live in a world with fairly permeable boundaries. Where once it was easy to think of a neighbor as a person in one’s village or neighborhood, there are many ways we live in a global village now, and the needs of neighbors are immense and overwhelming. The degree of concentrated wealth in this world is also immense and overwhelming.

We are mean to help each other, inter-personally, and even when it is hard.

I do want to say that it is possible for a society to organize itself in DIFFERENT ways than the ones we’ve chosen. It is possible to have tax codes that move wealth down rather than up. It is possible to house all the people in our country, and in our world. It is possible to feed people healthy and delicious food. It is possible to take care of everyone. It isn’t even that hard. What isn’t possible is to take care of everyone while consolidating all the resources at the top. It can’t be done. This one can’t be both and. We can share and take care of each other or we can let a few people have ridiculous wealth. But the ridiculousness of the wealth at the top right now – it makes it impossible to care for the many.

The writers of the New Testament lived in a world like the one we live in. Jesus and James at least had very little power in that system. They all called on the rich to see and care about the poor, to notice how they’re treated, to take responsibility for not trampling on the poor.

Don’t trample each other, God says! Also, seek the goodness that comes in a society that cares for all of God’s beloveds.

And also, eat this bread, drink this cup – they united us, and that unity is a holy and wonderful gift. (And challenge.) 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

July 7, 2024

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • June 23, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Step One: Prepare the Soil” based on Hosea 8:1-7, 10:12-13 and Matthew 13:1-9

In my household we are determined, amateur gardeners. To be fair, we like it that way, we are well aware that there is a whole lot of knowledge out there if we wish to consume it. But mostly we like putting seeds in soil and watching to see if they’ll grow, and putting plants in soil and seeing how they’ll grow.

We’ve learned SOME things along the way. Among them: it is unwise to plant a garden in a place it is hard to water it. It is even more unwise to plant a garden in a place it doesn’t get enough sun. Oh, and also, not getting enough sun isn’t a problem that can be overcome. Let’s see – we’ve learned seedlings can’t be ignored for very long 😉 We’ve learned you CAN have too many tomatoes (but it is still a fun problem), and raspberry bushes grow AMAZINGLY fast – in the sun 😉 We’ve learned that full grown, orange pumpkins can HIDE in high clover. That was fun. This year I learned that I can mess up seeding soil, hopefully I won’t repeat that one.

And, of course, we’ve learned about weeds. Weeds are a funny – thing they’re very localized. Every time I’ve moved in my adult life I’ve had to learn by trial and error which things growing were weeds and which weren’t, and when we moved two years ago – all of 0.8 miles from our last home – we found ourselves fighting some very different invasive species. I’m not terribly fond of using the label weeds lightly – dandelions are a delight after all, but I’m OK with using it for invasive plants. Mostly. OK, I worry even then. God did create us all, even the ones labeled weeds.

But when I think about all I’ve learned about gardening – and heavens all I COULD learn about gardening – I’m also reminded of how radically different growing things is HERE versus in the climate of the Bible. To be fair, I haven’t attempted to grow anything in the Middle East., but I did spend 3 years in Southern California and on our seminary campus we had a Biblical garden because the climates were so similar it was easy to cultivate plants we wouldn’t otherwise know but read about in the Bible.

And Southern California, if you don’t know, is DRY. As a Northeastern-er, it boggled my mind how DRY it was. Much of the populated area is watered, so you see these green lawns that look a lot like the ones here (but take a lot more chemicals to maintain, and are really a terrible use of water…anyway…) but sometimes along a stretch of a road there would be spots that weren’t watered and they’d just be … barren. Like rocks and sand and nothing growing there. And my northeastern brain was just …. shocked? Amazed? Horrified? Mesmerized? I don’t know. It was really weird. I mean, we have raspberry pushes that sprout up in between the concrete blocks of a garden wall, or in mulch barely covering that plastic weed cover stuff. You can’t stop life around here if you TRY. Right? I mean, I’ve used a weed-wacker in the non-existence space between the road and the sidewalk – MANY TIMES.

But in the desert, where there isn’t water, there is just… space.

Which is helpful for me to remember when I hear this parable. Indeed, it is hard enough for things to grow in that climate that they can’t overcome being in rocky ground where roots can’t get down far enough to reach enough water. Plants can’t overcome being in the midst of thorny weeds, it is just too hard to fight for survival.

But oh, the seeds that do get into good soil, the things that they were able to do! Step one – good soil!

Yet, I think, it didn’t just take getting the seeds into good soil – although that part is imperative. It took getting them into good soil, and then getting water to them. It took getting them into good soil and then keeping those thorns from grown into the field. It took tending.

The sower did the first part and WOW, look what happens when seeds fall in the right spot. Seriously, this is why I garden – because I like this part. It is amazing, and wonderful, and also reminds me of the great mysteries within life itself, and the wonder that is life, and the ways that God is more than what we can perceive. We know that seeds need soil, water, and sun, but the something that helps a seed sprout is still a little miracle, every time, one that I imagine makes God smile too.

The growing isn’t done by sowing alone, but the sowing and the spouting is a particularly awe inspiring part. And, as Paul tends to remind us, it can be OK that one person sows and another waters and another tends, each part matters! And I think there is wonder in ALL of it. In each and every step.

Hosea urges the ancient Israelites to pay attention to what they’re planting. To stop plowing wickedness, so they stop reaping injustice. So they can stop eating lies. And instead to sow righteousness, and reap steadfast love. To see the harvest that can come come from sabbath and rest (for the land just like the people), to seek God and God’s goodness and let the kindom come.

Sow the seeds of goodness and wonder, says Hosea.

And watch the miracles unfold, says Matthew.

And then, in our book of modern day prophets, We Cry Justice, we are told to keep on sowing despite it all. To sow hope as an act of faithfulness. To plant peace because of war – because alternatives are needed. To seed love so that we can grow it long enough for it to bear more seeds to grow next time around.

There are a LOT of weeds in our societal garden – thorny ones. There are a lot of hungry birds swooping down to steal the seed. There are plenty of huge rocks, and there are places with too much sun and some with too little and heavens but most of the best soil is being cash-cropped by huge corporations spraying poisonous insecticides onto our food and into our water.

Which, I think, is the 21st century version of what Matthew was talking about anyway!

But God’s abundance made a lot of good soil, plenty of rain, and enough sun that shines on all of us. We can grow our contemporary versions “victory gardens” of peace, hope, and love. Even better, this applies both to the physical gardens some of us tend, and even more so to the metaphorical ones in our beings and our society.

Perhaps this is a good reminder to consider how our lives are being seeded -and with what. And what we are able to do to nurture the seeds we want, and to weed out the ones we don’t. How God is always there to help us tend the goodness within us, any time we’re ready to tend to things with God.

With God, we get to chose to hope, “despite of all the evidence.” We God, we get to pick peace, because God has planted it in our souls. With God, get to share love, because we have been lucky enough to know love.

Dear ones, I really do mean it. I think every seed that grows is a little miracle. Tomato, pepper, eggplant, hope, peace or love. And I’m grateful for our writer this week who said, “Whether we win or lose in the short term, we struggle against the wickedness of immoral policies. We sow righteousness as we plant seeds of organization and leadership and nourish them for times of even greater possibility.”1 That plants seeds in me – of hope, peace, and love. Thanks be to God! Amen

1Daniel Jones “A Hurt and Angry God” in We Cry Justice (Minneapolis, 2021), p. 149.

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • May 26, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Starting With Care” based on Genesis 2:1-3 and Matthew 6:26-34

We’re going to start with the bad news: you can’t control anything.

Or, at least you can’t control anything important.

You can’t control how long you’ll live, what the quality of that living will be, what illnesses or injuries you will endure, how long your loved ones will live, if or when traumatic events will occur, nor how they’ll be responded to.

I was recently a part of a conversation about suffering led by a medical professional who – rather appropriately I thought – was worried about the fact that patients sometimes assume their suffering is God’s punishment. I agreed with him that this is just not TRUE, and it is awful to think that you are both in pain and that you deserve it. But, I am also aware that if pain and suffering aren’t a punishment from God, another option is that life is a crapshoot and there isn’t any meaning to be found in it – and for a whole lot of people that’s MORE uncomfortable than thinking God wills it. Because if God’s punishing them, or teaching them a lesson, then the suffering AT LEAST means something and maybe even has redemptive value. But if it was just a random thing, and it could have happened to anyone and just happened to happen to them – well, for a lot of people that’s WORSE.

Because then it is entirely out of their control. If God is punishing them, then IF ONLY they’d acted differently, then they could have prevented this from happening.

Right? It is an awful theology, but the human desire to pretend we have control is really quite powerful.

And, let’s be honest, we can’t control things but we can …. impact probabilities, right? Cancer is MORE likely if you smoke, if you don’t exercise, if you don’t eat well. Even better, you aren’t likely to get hurt falling off a rock wall if you don’t attempt to climb a rock wall. Right?

That said, once I broke a toe because a container of chili fell out of my freezer and landed on it. No rockwalls involved. Another time I sprained an ankle horribly – at the ski mountain – on the INDOOR stairs when I was grabbing lunch. Probabilities aren’t guarantees.

I find some comfort in the Matthew passage that tells us that worrying and trying to control the uncontrollable is in human nature. This one isn’t a modern day problem and we don’t have to blame the 24 hour news cycle, smartphones, or social media. This is a human problem. We are aware enough of the uncertainties of life to worry about what may happen.

Jesus seems to recommend not worrying about the little things – about eating and drinking and finding clothes. Which, funnily enough, were exactly things that most of his audience was worried about most of the time because he was speaking to people who often didn’t enough enough food, or drink, or a change of clothes.

In the face of their daily struggle for survival, Jesus says,

“Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?”

And I get his point. Life is vivacious, nature takes care of itself, hoarding is unnecessary, and truly no one is as beautiful as a flower. But also, I don’t get his point. Because it sounds a whole lot like saying, “Sure, there is a system of oppression out there that took away your family’s land and livelihood, and now you are hoping every day to get hired back to work the land so that you can afford to eat tonight, and sure you are likely to die soon of malnutrition, but don’t worry about it, God will take care of you.” And, while I TRULY believe that God does want to take care of everyone… well, deaths from malnutrition HAPPEN so it seems like that “promise” isn’t one that often works out.

Compassionate people don’t say to starving people, “don’t worry about food.”

So, what the heck is Jesus doing?

I think I did a bad job in picking this passage, particularly that I didn’t look at the verses PRECEEDING these ones. Namely, “No one can serve two masters for a slave will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” These lines are a big deal in the Bible. For a world in which people thought being wealthy was a sign of God’s favor, it really turns the tables. This passage encourages the poor while challenging the wealthy. And it is placed before the bit about the lilies of the field.

And I wonder if Jesus is at this point talking to wealthy people. The ones who DO have enough to eat, but are worried about it anyway. The ones who do have clothes, but fret that they’re not enough.

And I wonder, too, if Jesus is doing one of those really deep teaching things where he is saying to the poor – if you work together you’ll have enough, but when you have enough don’t worry about getting more like the rich people do. Trust in each other and God, don’t horde.

Furthermore, I think maybe Jesus wants those who are oppressed to look up long enough to see they system that is oppressing them, and that it isn’t God’s will. God made a world of abundance, PEOPLE are keeping each other from accessing it. Part of the problem of trying to survive is that you can be so pre-occupied with it that you don’t notice you shouldn’t have to fight that hard.

God made enough. It was true then, and it is true now, just as it is true that people died of not having enough then and people die of not having enough now. God made enough, people have distribution problems. And I think it’s OK to worry about the distribution problems.

I really appreciated this week’s essay from We Cry Justice. I’d like to read a little more of it to you:

God creates human partnerships. In short, God created a system whereby all material and emotional life is tended to. So if we are to be fruitful and multiply – if we are to add to creation – the systems we create must extend the provision of care.

…

Within us lies the potential to create and re-create a system that revolves around and produces care, a system where needs are met. We will need each other to do so. We will need to be in partnership, working together to be fruitful and multiply.1

We can’t CONTROL anything, although we can do a lot of damage trying. We can, however, be in partnership with each other and God and seek to “extend the provision of care.” We can choose to notice that care is inherent in creation, and that God’s care hasn’t changed. We can remind ourselves that there is ENOUGH, and that’s good. We can remember the lilies of the field – when they’re useful – that creation is beautiful and awe-inspiring.

(Image of mutual care: Ellis Nurses with supporters picketing for better care for their patients, and for each other. Photo by Sara Baron)

We can remember that things aren’t now as they should be, but they CAN get better, that God is working with us to make them better, that we’re working together, that many people are in this together. That we want a world where no one has to worry about what they will eat or drink or wear, because the resources of the world are abundant there is enough for everyone – and in the kindom of God the resources are shared with the abundance of God.

It is a dream worth holding onto, and remembering, and seeking. We can start with care. And every little bit helps. We can’t control it, but we can shape it. Thanks be to God. Amen

1Solita Alexander Riley “In the Beginning, There Was Care” in We Cry Justice (Minneapolis, 2021), p. 145.

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

May 26, 2024

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • May 12, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Hate Evil and Love Good” based on Amos 5:11-15 and Mark 11:15-19

Do you ever wish there weren’t quite so many tables that need to be turned over? I mean, Jesus was totally justified in his action. And it was brilliant, and I love it. In his non-violent direct action he managed to convey that the Temple had been co-opted by the Empire and was serving the Empire and not God. He reclaimed for the people the faith of their ancestors and put them on notice that the Temple was not representing that faith. Which likely they knew, but maybe some of them mostly ignored because it was too hard to admit that the Temple of Solomon was being used as a vehicle of oppression rather than freedom. Like Jesus’ parables, his actions bring into the light a lot of things that people would rather not see.

(Jesus Mafa image)

And, like Jesus’ parables, his actions freaked out the people in power. Mark seems on target in naming that this action was a part of the decision to kill him but Christianity has a terrible historical relationship with Judaism, and I want to be sure we name that the chief priests who are said to be conspiring to kill him were appointees of ROME and that was one of the concerns Jesus was raising. While nominally Jewish, they were a tool of oppression, rather than being guardians of God’s freedom.

I think this is one of the challenges of faith traditions. There is POWER in communities of faith, and there is power in faith leadership. We are working together to make meaning of the world around us, to listen for the voice of God, and we make assessment of what God likes and dislikes about the world around us. Which is our work. The meaning making work. But that means that whoever wants to oppress others really wants us on their side to claim they are doing right and not wrong, and heavens faith leaders quite often follow those leads and end up blessing and justifying all kinds of horrible things.

We have power, so people want to abuse it, and far too often they succeed. And Jesus, God love him, and others of God’s prophets call it out.

And there is a lot of calling how to do – both in the church and in the world. And I, for one, would be happier if there were less need. I read an opinion piece in the New York Times this week entitled “The Happiness Gap Between Left and Right Isn’t Closing” by Thomas Edsall. Apparently people have been studying this for 50 years and the left is simply less happy than the right. He wrote:

Those on the right are less likely to be angered or upset by social and economic inequities, believing that the system rewards those who work hard, that hierarchies are part of the natural order of things and that market outcomes are fundamentally fair.

Those on the left stand in opposition to each of these assessments of the social order, prompting frustration and discontent with the world around them.”1

Well, that’s a fair assessment, huh? Makes me wonder how Jesus felt about doing this Temple Protest. Was he angry? Sad? Simply resigned that it was necessary? All of it at once? Clearly he would have preferred his faith tradition NOT be co-opted for oppression, but I do wonder how he made sense of it.

According to the article,Timothy A. Judge, the chairman of the department of management and human resources at Notre Dame, has also written on happiness and the left and the right. There is an idea that taking on hierarchy, patriarchy, racism, and institutions is depressing because it is HARD, it is harder than believing you have a lot of control in the world. Judge says:

“I do share the perspective that a focus on status, hierarchies and institutions that reinforce privilege contributes to an external locus of control. And the reason is fairly straightforward. We can only change these things through collective and, often, policy initiatives — which tend to be complex, slow, often conflictual and outside our individual control.

On the other hand, if I view “life’s chances” (Virginia Woolf’s term) to be mostly dependent on my own agency, this reflects an internal focus, which will often depend on enacting initiatives largely within my control.”

As I read the article, I noticed that things were getting pretty interesting for me internally. First of all, I didn’t know progressives were less happy than our counterparts and I wanted it to be untrue. But, I couldn’t argue with the fact that it would be nicer to think that things are generally working than it is to notice that a whole lot of things are not working. That’s just TRUE. But by this point I was thinking about the reality of social change. It is unpleasant to deal with the brokenness of the world, but if we don’t deal with it, we just let it continue! And, yes, change is complex, slow, conflictual, and often what we can offer is only a tiny piece of what is needed. AND, … that’s just how it is!!!

Sure, it is nicer to only deal with things that we can control, but that would leave us complicit with injustice.

Furthermore, as I was reading, I found myself reliving so many conversations we’ve had around here. This stuff is really, really true. The author also quotes Nick Haslam, a professor of psychology at the University of Melbourne, who:

“cites studies showing that strong ‘correlates of holding expansive concepts of harm were compassion-related trait values, left-liberal political attitudes and forms of morality associated with both.’ Holding expansive concepts of harm was also ‘associated with affective and cognitive empathy orientation and most strongly of all with endorsement of harm- and fairness-based morality.’ Many of these characteristics are associated with the political left.”2

And, another light bulb went off. We who are called to be compassionate and empathetic, and we who come to the world with some natural compassion and empathy and are able to maintain it despite the costs – it isn’t actually easy to face the world AND feel it.

When I say I wish there were fewer tables to be overturned, I mean I wish there was more justice and less need to work for it.

But, I’m so very grateful we have the example of Jesus overturning tables, and regularly messing with the status quo, and all the rest of the Bible doing the same, to keep us on our toes. I don’t want to be a faith leader who greats meaning for oppressors. I don’t think we want to be a faith community at peace with injustice. I don’t want to NEED to turn tables, I don’t think Jesus did either. But we do what needs to be done.

Interestingly, the article ended with another quote from Timothy Judge:

I know this is perhaps naïve. But if we give in to cynicism (that consensus can’t be found), that’s self-reinforcing, isn’t it? I think about the progress on how society now views sexual orientation and the success stories. The change was too slow, painful for many, but was there any other way?

Well, it turns out that’s pretty on point for us, huh? We’re now 28 years into being a Reconciling Congregation, a decision that was made carefully over 2 more years, and we are newly a part of denomination that doesn’t actively harm queer and trans people. Many of us have turned tables to create this change. Many have made meaning to help it be clear that God’s love isn’t small and judgmental but rather is enormous and life-giving. We have used our voices to bring change.

And, dear ones, I want to point out that from 1972 to 2019 things kept on getting worse and worse. At General Conference in 2016, Love Your Neighbor Coalition Volunteers were prepared to shut down General Conference AGAIN to prevent further harm. That threat, we believe, was part of the motivation to create the 2019 General Conference. And I promise you this – all the tables that were turned along the way were turned ON PURPOSE to bring the change. People know the win wasn’t going to come through legislation, nor the judicatory, and the only answer was to raise the temperature in the room.

And in 2019 the worst possible outcome came. The church doubled down on its homophobia, and in fact defined Christianity as a commitment to homophobia. It was unfathomably awful. We, here discussed if we would stay or go. We didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, but we didn’t want to give up either.

Today, it is clear that the organizing we did after 2019 and the disaffiliation process created by 2019 (which was intended to kick US out) created a new day. But until the votes started coming in for the “2020 General Conference” – the one that ended last week, don’t let the dates confuse you – until the votes started coming in we couldn’t believe it because we’d been hurt too many times.

For the rest of my life when someone says turning over tables doesn’t matter, I’ll know better because I’ve seen it work. For the rest of my life when things are very dark, when things look like death, I’ll remember that 2019 was the death of my hope in The United Methodist Church, AND that 2024 was its resurrection.

I wish there were fewer tables to turn, but it turns out there is ONE LESS table to turn. Thanks be to God. And it turns out it got turned because people stayed with empathy and compassion, because people worked together, because they stayed to do the hard work even when it seemed hopeless, because they didn’t give up. (Note, however, that some people had to take breaks, and some people had to leave, but COLLECTIVELY we kept going. Justice work includes taking breaks.)

Amos nails it:

Seek good and not evil, so that you may live,

and so that YWHW God Omnipotent

may truly be with you as you have been claiming.
Hate what is evil and love what is good

maintain justice at the city games. (5:14-15a, Inclusive Bible)

Dear ones, we are called to seek good and not evil, to hate what is evil and love what is good. And it is HARD to stay in this work and see what is wrong and feel how much harm is done, and have hope. But, hope is worth having, because as we’ve been saying all along, “Love wins in the end, and if Love hasn’t won, it isn’t over yet.” And at least on one thing, Love has won, and that reminds me that I can trust that God who is Love will ALWAYS win. Amen

1https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/08/opinion/conservatives-liberals-depression-anxiety.html

2Ibid

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • May 5, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Hallelujah, It Is Finished!” based in theory on John 21:1-14 as a story of resurrection

Dear ones, it is official. The era of institutional discrimination against queer and trans people in the United Methodist church has ended.

The phrase that said that “homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching” is gone, and our new statement on Human sexuality reads:

We affirm human sexuality as a sacred gift and acknowledge that sexual intimacy contributes to fostering the emotional, spiritual, and physical well-being of individuals and to nurturing healthy sexual relationships that are grounded in love, care and respect.

Human sexuality is a healthy and natural part of life that is expressed in wonderfully diverse ways from birth to death. It is shaped by a combination of nature and nurture: heredity and genetic factors on the one hand and childhood development and environment on the other. We further honor the diversity of choices and vocations in relation to sexuality such as celibacy, marriage and singleness.

We support the rights of all people to exercise personal consent in sexual

relationships, to make decisions about their own bodies and be supported in those decisions, to receive comprehensive sexual education, to be free from sexual exploitation and violence, and to have access to adequate sexual health care.

The “funding ban” is gone – church support at levels can be extended to organizations doing ministry with LGBTQIA+ folx.

We don’t call anyone “self-proclaimed practicing homosexuals” anymore (PHEW), and now we affirm that queer clergy can be ordained and appointed in The United Methodist Church AND that if they can’t be safely appointed at home they can be appointed across conference lines.

We now allow clergy to preside over and UM churches to host same-gender weddings.

There are no longer chargeable offenses for ones’ sexual orientation or for doing same-gender weddings.

AND we’ve created a process to RESTORE CREDENTIALS of those who lost them because of their sexuality, gender identity, or presiding over a wedding. (It remains to be seen if anyone will use this.)

AND we’ve put in place a regionalization plan that allows for areas around the world to do ministry in ways that work for them, THANK GOD, and also means we can move from these NEUTRAL stances to POSTITIVE statements in the near future.

Friends, that first one, the “incompatibility clause” was added in 1972 and we’ve been fighting to remove it every since. 52 years.

The era of harm to God’s beloved queer and trans people through The United Methodist Church is OVER.

HALLELUJAH.

I have a memory of being in junior high Sunday school and learning that The United Methodist Church was bigoted against queer people and being simply horrified that they didn’t know better yet. I thought back then that it was just a matter of time for the church to catch up.

I remember going to General Conference in 2004 and learning how intentional and organized the homophobic movement was. It blew me away. It wasn’t simply that the church forgot to notice they had this justice issue to fix. It was that people were working hard, with great intentionality, to do harm to God’s beloveds.

I have done my part, to change the church. So have you. So have tens or hundreds of thousands of people. Maybe more. I can’t quite process how many people have worked so hard to bring this day. The laborers have been many, and until this past two weeks the fruits have been few. But here we are.

THIS is the First Sunday of a fully inclusive United Methodist Church.

And, I thought it would feel better.

It is like I forgot about how pain works. I forgot that when the active harm stops coming, that’s when you finally get to really feel it all. That’s when the grief hits. That’s when the anger is finally able to be let out.

Until this week the harms kept coming, and all we could do was survive.

And now we have to heal.

Darn it.

IT IS FINISHED, HALLELUJAH.

And.

And we lost beloveds to suicide. And we lost those called to other churches or professions. And we lost the full authenticity of those called and serving. And we lost members who were told they were incompatible, or they couldn’t get married, or they couldn’t have their kid baptized. And we lost those who just couldn’t stay anymore. And those who have been WAITING have lost so many years.

52 years.

AND, sorry, I know I’m Debbie Downer, but we know we closed the Central Jurisdictions in 1968 to create a beautifully diverse fully shared body of Christ and racism is still alive and well anyway. And we also know that women have had full ordination rights since 1954 but don’t have pay equity or any other kind of equity. So removing formal discrimination doesn’t solve the whole problem.

You already knew that too.

Ever since the rules changed to allow all of our siblings their ordination rights, I’ve been humming Mark Miller’s song “The Journey Isn’t Over.” God’s call in my life to bring justice in the church and the world for God’s beloveds who are trans and queer hasn’t changed. I’m so grateful, so very, very grateful not to be ashamed of my denomination more. But the journey isn’t over:

From Seneca Falls,

from Selma to Stonewall

we’ve come a long way,

we’ve come a long way.

From Seneca Falls,

from Selma to Stonewall

we’ve come a long way,

but the journey isn’t over.

Friends, THIS journey will be over when God’s beloveds who are trans and queer, God’s beloveds who are women and non-binary people, God’s beloveds who are BIPOC, God’s beloveds with disabilities, AND ALL of God’s beloveds are able to live in fullness and abundance in the kindom of God.

From now until then, we’re called to make it so.

Hallelujah, THIS STAGE is finished, AND the journey isn’t over. Amen

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • April 28, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Mixed Multitude” Exodus 12:33-42 and Acts 2:5-11, 41-42

I love our “We Cry Justice” reading today (#25 by Daniel Jones) and the hot take on “mixed multitudes.” I loved the MLK quote it started with too, including, Pharaoh ‘”kept the slaves fighting among themselves.” This “trick” of having most of the resources in a society “float” to the top while leaving the multitudes fighting for the crumbs is well known, and unfortunately still well used. Take a look at governmental budgets and then the people advocating for various just causes – who accidentally end up fighting each other to prove the imperative nature of their own concern AT THE cost of the others. (Fixable, it turns out, by fixing the regressive tax code so it doesn’t magnify inequality.)

Mr. Jones points out that Ancient Egypt was “an empire based on violence and injustice that sacrificed lives to the accumulation of wealth and its paranoia, viewed the murder of children as a fair price for keeping control.”1 I can’t decide if I should respond “OUCH” or “PREACH” to that one. He goes on to say that the mixed multitude – the Israelites and those who suffered along with them in the empire – built a new society based on God’s laws. “This higher law proclaims the accumulation of individual wealth to be immoral and demands freedom for enslaved people, forgiveness of debts, care for the environment, and the responsibility of everyone to their neighbors.” And THAT’s why we call it the Promised Land.

The holiness of this mixed multitude, seeking shared goodness for each other instead of competing with each other and creating community out of shared need is found in Acts 2 as well. We normally only focus on Acts 2 on Pentecost, but it is another example that when God’s Spirit is at work, people are bonded together across boundaries that might otherwise seem too impossible to cross.

God seems particularly committed to mixed multitudes.

Now this is funny thing to say right now I think. This week I’ve watched the incredible power of God’s spirit move in the intractable-until-now United Methodist Church and all of a sudden there is hope abundant! And, truthfully, that hope abundant comes BECAUSE of disaffiliation, it comes because we split. It comes because we BROKE bonds.

Part of me – ok, a really large part of me – wants to simply say that those who left identified with the oppressor and oppressed God’s beloveds and we are better off without them. But God has said to love our enemies, and I’m pretty sure being that petty isn’t appropriate for a preacher… while preaching at least 😉

We who value the wide diversity of God’s creation may find it easy to hear about the mixed multitudes and the amazing ways God’s work to overturn oppression pulls people together. But I also know that we who value the wide diversity of God’s creation sometimes find it really hard to deal with those who… don’t.

Right?

It’s OK, I know I’m right.

It turns out to be easier to be in a mixed multitude where people agree mixed multitudes are awesome than it is to be in a mixed multitude where there is a diversity of opinions about the value of diversity.

Or, maybe there is a bigger truth here. God’s amazing work to overcome oppression and pull people together is REAL. But it is hard to live in community – there are ALWAYS differences. I think often of the story a little later in Acts when the incredibly diverse Body of Christ in its infancy already had issues with food distribution being fairly managed. Humans come into community with differences. There is no community without conflict. There is no community without bias. There is no community in prefect agreement – except maybe those who all defer to a strong-man leader.

The truth is that God binds us together. And, I think sometimes we get to the point when the best choice is to let some bonds go. Because not everything is now as it should be. We know this about marriage itself – there are times when two people have hurt each other enough that the best, most loving way forward, is apart. This week showed very clearly that all the dreams I’ve ever heard God dreaming for The United Methodist Church are possible – now that we’re broken. And, to be fair, I hear from those in the Global Methodist Church that they think all the dreams they ever heard God dreaming are now possible there. The issue has ALWAYS been that we hear God differently.

So I’ve been thinking about what the moral, Christ-like response is to those with whom we have fundamental-values-level-differences. And I hear the echos of Jesus on the cross, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” and I think that’s the actual start of it. I hear it in Martin Luther King teaching about the goal of his work being to bring everyone together, not to bring down the oppressor. Let’s hear him:

Now there is a final reason I think that Jesus says, “Love your enemies.” It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. That’s why Jesus says, “Love your enemies.” Because if you hate your enemies, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. But if you love your enemies, you will discover that at the very root of love is the power of redemption. You just keep loving people and keep loving them, even though they’re mistreating you. Here’s the person who is a neighbor, and this person is doing something wrong to you and all of that. Just keep being friendly to that person. Keep loving them. Don’t do anything to embarrass them. Just keep loving them, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with bitterness because they’re mad because you love them like that. They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love, you see. It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. “love your enemies.”2

So, dear ones, I’m going to keep on loving the Global Methodist Church, because I deeply believe God asks me to. Further, I believe there are people in that church who need it, and others who will need it. And, apparently, we are supposed to love Christian Nationalists too – even when they misrepresent our tradition. (Pulling no punches today.)

I guess no one every said being a follower of Jesus was easy, huh? But, friends, it is the season of Easter and we are told over and over again that God is Love and Love wins and NOTHING, not even death, can stop God’s power of love. So, dear mixed multitude, let’s keep on loving on EVERYONE even when they don’t seem to know how broad God’s love is yet. Let’s be accused of being naive with our love. Let’s be radical, and a little too broad with it. Let’s be like God. Amen

1We Cry Justice #25, page 110.

2https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/loving-your-enemies-sermon-delivered-dexter-avenue-baptist-church

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • April 22, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“God is Good!” by Sylvester Doyer based on Psalm 150.

Introduction: This month of April in 2024 marks the 40 year anniversary of Sylvester’s diagnosis with HIV. In 1984 the diagnosis was seen as a death sentence, and indeed almost everyone diagnosed then died. Somehow, and we don’t know, Sylvester didn’t. In 2007/8 he came very close, and was lying in a hospital bed with 1 T-cell left expecting the end had come. But, somehow, and we don’t know how, it didn’t. He celebrates the love of his long time partner and now husband Denis who was the embodiment of God’s grace pulling him through.

This sharing is in three pieces. First words written decades ago by now Bishop Karen Oliveto for World AIDS day; second a prayer combing the sermon with the baptism we’d shared in just before the sermon; and third the sermon itself. For those in need of a reminder that there can be hope when it seems like hope has fled, may these words of gratitude penetrate your very being. – Pastor Sara Baron

*Call to Worship1“World AIDS Day Liturgies” Karen Oliveto

One:   How have you come to this time and place?

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   How has your heart weathered the many losses of ffriends and l overs?

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   How has your mind grappled with the constant specter of death?

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   How has your soul maintained wholeness?

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   It’s not because of government support;

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   It’s not because of the research and medical communities;

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   It’s not because of the health insurance companies;

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   It’s because of the grace of God.

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   It’s because of the presence of Christ.

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   It’s because of the sustaining power of the Holy Spirit.

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   We’ve come this far because the love of God is made visible through the care of lovers, friends, family, and caregivers.

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   We’ve come this far because nothing, nothing at all can separate us from this love.

Many: We’ve come this far by faith!

One:   We’ve come this far by faith, and we will go even farther, knowing that in every step we take,

Many: God hasn’t failed us yet!

One:   In every burden we carry,

Many: God hasn’t failed us yet!

One:   In every setback we face,

Many: God hasn’t failed us yet!

One:   Our God is a constant presence on which we can lean.

Many: God hasn’t failed us yet!

One:   We can trust in God’s presence.

Many: God hasn’t failed us yet!

One:   Alleluia! Amen!

Many: Amen and amen!

Prayer Before Sermon

We come before you Creator of all, thanking you for allowing us to see another day. Thank you for allowing us to plant our feet on solid ground and start on our way. We thank you and acknowledge that you didn’t have to allow us to wake this morning, but you did, and we thank you. In the mist of all that is happening in the world today we cry out Father I stretch my hand to thee and you hear us. As a reminder that you are ever near and ever listening to us Lord you are constantly giving us signs of your loving presence. This morning, we thank you for putting in our midst such a sign in the little one Koa, who we welcome into your family this morning through his baptism. We pray for his parents that they maybe a source of strength and guidance for Koa so that as he grows, he may know nothing but caring and love from them and everyone around him. Amen

Sermon

We all have a tendency when times get rough to seek comfort from
anywhere and anyone around us. If you are spiritual, we usually turn to the man upstairs.

And I was no different when in those early days I didn’t know if I would be around to see the next day. That’s when I remember growing up with a Catholic and Southern Baptist background, I found myself seeking and drawing comfort more from my Southern Baptist
background.

I recall going to church with my dad who was Southern Baptist and
there was a group of women called the Mother Board who usually would stand and sing one of those old gospel songs that they called Dr. Watts song. There was this one elderly mother who would lead the
song but before she would start, she witness, testify to and about the
goodness and greatness of God.

I am here this morning to join mine witnessing and testimony to hers and to shout as she shouts God is good. Back then the words she was saying didn’t make much sense till later. When in those darkest hours your soul cries out seeking comfort, I remember just lying there sometimes and listening to my soul cry out in the words of that
old gospel song, “Father, I stretch my hand to thee. No other help I know. If Thou withdraw Thyself from me Ah, where shall I go.” Looking back as my soul cried out, “Father, I stretch my
hand to Thee ….”, even in those darkest moments he was listening
because sitting next to my hospital bed was Denis, he put him there saying don’t give up, never, never, never give up.

My soul would cry all the louder, “Father I stretch my hand to Thee….”
There in the room working through the medical team and everything else would be that voice, “don’t give up.” The louder I’d cry, “Father I stretch my hand to Thee…..”, the louder that voice would become.

I’m here to tell you, he showed himself to me in those around me but
especially Denis who would get up in the morning walk the dogs; go to work all day; come home walk the dogs and then come up to the hospital and be that voice that whispered “don’t give up; never, never,
never give up.” They would let him sit sometimes way pass visiting
hour.

My soul would cry out even more but it changed the song and cried out “I Love The Lord He Heard my cries, And pitied every groan; Long as I live, when troubles rise, I’ll hasten to His throne” the song goes
on to say “My God has saved my soul from death and dried my
falling tears; Now to his praise I’ll spend my breath and my remaining years.” My heart this morning is full of joy, full of gratitude and thanksgiving. Last month my doctor reminded me that I’ve been
living with HIV/AIDS now for 40 years this month.

There were those days when I wasn’t sure I was going to be here, but my soul cried out “Father I Stretch my hand to Thee”, and he heard my cry. I’m here this morning to tell you He didn’t have to wake me up this morning, but He did. He didn’t have to plant my feet on solid
ground, but He did. He heard my cry and let me see another day and I am here to thank Him. My soul this morning cries out even louder “I love the Lord; He heard my cry and pitied every groan.” So,
I’m here this morning to join my story, my testimony to that elderly mother and to let you know even in those darkest of times the soul cries out and it’s heard.

There is a song that sums up how I feel today and every day.

Now my soul cries out How I got Over.
How I got over
Well, how I got over
Well, my soul look back and wonder
Don’t know how I got over (How I got over)
How I got over
I’m gon’ thank him for how he brought me
Well, I’m gon’ thank him for ho
w he taught me

Oh, thank him for how he kept me
I’m gon’ thank him ‘cause he never left me
I’m gonna thank him for heart felt religion
I’m gonna thank him for a vision
I’m gonna sing hallelujah
Oh, shout all my trouble over
I’m gon’ thank him (Thank him for)
All he’s done for me
Thank him for all he’s done (
He’s done)
For me

Amen

1Karen Oliveto “World AIDS Day Liturgies” in Shaping Sanctuary edited by Kelly Turney, 2000, page 140-1.

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 
http://fumcschenectady.org/ 
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

Sylvester (left) and Denis (right) on their wedding day in 2013.

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • March 3, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Hoped for Dignity” based on Acts 6:1-6 and 1 Corinthians 11:17-26

When I was a child I thought that the church was a holy place and that meant that the people who were there did good things, and good decisions were made there.

Growing up wasn’t particularly fun. Shaking off all those illusions was a lot of work. Now I know that the church is a holy place and that means people try to do good things and make decisions and sometimes we do and sometimes we don’t.

These days I can read two passages about the early church bringing normal human dysfunction to shared meals and not even bat an eye. Of course normal human dysfunction happened in the early church! And the middle church! And the late church? Whatever we call ourselves now. Of course ways people didn’t see each other’s needs have always happened and of course that applied to people with enough resources not seeing those without enough resources well. People. That’s apparently how we work. Including in the church.

I’ve never been super fond of Paul’s “solution” in 1 Corinthians though. I’ve never understood why he recommended eating at home instead of sharing all the food that everyone brought. Luckily, we have our Acts reading too, one that feels so radical it seems like Jesus is sitting in the room making the recommendation himself.

So let’s focus on the Acts one. This is in the very early church when the followers of Jesus were functioning as one family in really practical ways. People sold everything they had and contributed the resources to the whole and were then utterly dependent on each other. Usually I read this part of Acts and just feel guilty that the modern church is such a weakened version of that commitment to community and shared livelihood.

But this passage shows that even in the VERY early church when people were radically committed to God, to following Jesus, and to each other there were still issues. And these issues were intersectional. The community of faith following Jesus in those days was still a part of Judaism, so all the followers of Jesus still knew themselves to be Jews. However, by the time of the early church, Judaism already had both a home base and a diaspora. Some Jewish people still lived in the land of their ancestors and spoke Hebrew and Aramaic, some came from families that had lived in other places and spoke primarily Greek. Maybe, even, most of them spoke each other’s languages but the “Hellenistic” and “”Hebrew” Jews refers mostly to where their families had settled.

In any case, while in the world at large being Hellenistic would have been a position of greater power, for the early church being Hebrew was a position of greater power and that meant that the Hellenistic Jews were LESS powerful. And, because humans … are kinda awful sometimes… that meant that the most vulnerable members of the Hellenistic Jews – the widows – suffered the most and weren’t getting enough FOOD.

Which is horrible, and infuriating, and also just so NORMAL.

The solution, I’d say, isn’t normal though. It isn’t normal in the world and it isn’t even normal for the church. Because the issue was brought to “the disciples” and they did something I’m not used to seeing church leaders do. They set a boundary and said “we aren’t capable of caring for this in addition to the things we’re already doing.” Which was incredibly healthy, especially when they said that AND came up with a plan to make sure it was cared for.

So then they told the community to find 7 people to care for the fair distribution of food. Which means that it was the whole community that did the really amazing next thing, not just the twelve disciples. The amazing thing they did was pick SEVEN men with HELLENISTIC names. One of whom we’re told was a convert to Judaism, so go diversity on that one.

And those seven men became the ones in charge of resources distribution. The words used as “wait tables” also have administrative connotations, and I suspect those are accurate.

In my years in the church I haven’t ever seen it happen that when a marginalized group reports structuralized mistreatment that they’re given all the power over the structure. Never. I’ve seen marginalized groups report structuralized mistreatment and they’ve been given space to speak, or they’ve been empowered to report on the problem, at times there are even spaces made for committees to be formed, and on occasion those committees are even mostly populated by those who have been marginalized.

But I’ve never seen the POWER HANDED OVER.

I’ve never seen the response, “This has been done poorly and the most vulnerable people aren’t being treated well? Then let’s fix it by making sure that those who are vulnerable have complete control over the resources people need, because they’ll be more attentive to distributing it fairly.”

Well, I’ve never seen it anywhere but right here. And this feels like a bigger miracle than those healing stories the gospels are full of. Did the early church really do this? Did they really trust God and follow Jesus this well? Did they actually invert the power structures of the world and trust the disempowered to fix the system?

Yes, yes, I know that it was 7 men and no women and definitely none of the widows. It is a miracle anyway. I’ve seen the church at large. Trust me.

Seriously, this gives me goosebumps.

Because I can imagine SO MANY objections to doing it this way. Right? “They’ll just keep all the food to themselves.” “Will the Hebrew widows be hungry now?” “What do those guys know about distributing resources anyway?” “This is hard work, it should be done by experts.” “What will we do if someday there isn’t enough food? Will they be able to handle it then?” “What kind of reporting are we expecting of these 7 to the 12 that it can be clear they’re being accountable?”

But that wasn’t what happened. 7 people were selected, they were blessed, they did the work, and Acts goes on to tell us some of the wonderful things these people did to build up the community and bring glory to God. The 12 went back to their important work, the 7 did their important work, everyone got the resources they needed, and more people were attracted to this radically equal Body of Christ.

And I think that means if it happened once, it could happen again!?!?!? It probably has, even if I haven’t heard about it. I suspect God is working on it happening RIGHT NOW in a whole bunch of places. This is a miracle of hope – that true dignity can be restored to God’s beloveds who are in this moment vulnerable and in need.

This amazing miracle is a part of the story we find at the table of God we extend at the communion table. So invite you to bring this miracle with us as move into sharing our resources with each other and sharing the bread and the cup. 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

March 3, 2024

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • February 25, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“We Hope for What We Do Not See” based on Jonah 2 and Romans 8:18-25

Despite my enjoyment of the “Who Did” song1, I haven’t preached about Jonah often. I may even have groaned when I looked at the texts for this week – even though I was the one to pick the essay from “We Cry Justice” and the accompanying recommended scriptures. I fear, though, that my avoidance of this text is unjustified.

Because, the issues I have are really quite silly. Here we go:

  • Whales don’t eat people. Nor do large fish.
  • Stomachs have acid, but not a lot of air, making them uninhabitable

You know, stuff like that.

But it turns out that taking a story literally and objecting to the pragmatic details is a really great way to miss powerful symbolism and deeper meaning within a story. So dismissing this story has only had the impact of keeping me from attending to the wisdom it has.

Which I noticed when I actually read the 2nd chapter of the book of Jonah, which is rather surprising. You may recall that in the first chapter Jonah was asked to to to Nineveh and tries to run away instead, gets on a ship going in the other direction, a storm comes up, Jonah suggests that the storm is God’s way of saying he isn’t listening, he suggests he be thrown into the sea, the sailors try not to do so, but finally they throw him in hoping the rest of them will live, and the storm quiets and the sailors are converted…. and then the whale did swallow Jonah. Down. 😉

So, given that chapter 2 is a prayer of Jonah from inside the whale, I think there would be just cause to assume that the prayer is either a lament that God put him in this horrid situation OR a plea for help, a request for forgiveness that results in Jonah being released from said whale? Right?

But it isn’t. The prayer of chapter 2 is a prayer of THANKSGIVING, whereby Jonah seems to have already concluded that the whale is a means of salvation, and is thanking God for God’s gracious actions. And that’s a place where I noticed that there is something useful in this story, because … well, I’m not sure I’d have gotten there.

I think that if I had a sense of God asking me to do something I vehemently didn’t want to do, that resulted in my very near drowning, and then gasping for air inside an enormous beast I couldn’t talk to or control, I’d have missed the memo that said enormous beast was a gift from God. Really. I mean, maybe, 3 days in, hungry, thirsty, and still wet but shockingly alive I might have figured it out, but that’s even kind of doubtful.

But Jonah’s prayer starts with “I called to the Lord in my distress and [God] answered me.”(NRSV 2a) So, it seems like he got it immediately. (We’re working with symbolism here people, let go of any assumption of factuality and let a good story be a good story.) And, the prayer is even specific, “The waters closed over me; the deep surrounded me; weeds were wrapped around my head…yet you brought up my life from the Pit, O LORD my God.” (5,6d)

Wow. Jonah is sinking to the bottom of the sea, hopeless, and helpless, and then experiences God as lifting him up from the place of death, of bringing LIFE out of DEATH. And, I’m kinda familiar with THAT metaphor, right? But this is a different angle on it.

For me, the incongruities of life in the belly of the whale finally recede to make space for the questions of life and faith. When have we been floating down to the bottom of the sea, out of air, and out of hope? There are a lot of possible answers to that, right? And our lives are different, so our answers are different. Grief can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea– anticipatory grief and the utter horror of waking up and realizing someone you love isn’t there Depression can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea. Job loss and financial hardship can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea. Loss of relationship. Abuse. Illness. Injury. Car accidents. Becoming unhoused. Failing. Flailing. A lot can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea.

And what was the thing that picked you and kept you alive when you could no longer do so for yourself? Who or what was the whale? Was a phone call from a friend who cared? The arrival of flowers? The long, hard, careful work of a therapist? An unexpected welcome? An offer you couldn’t have anticipated? The life restoring work of first responded and medical professionals? Someone showing you the ropes you couldn’t figure out on your own? A good Samaritan?

How long did it take you to realize that you weren’t at the bottom of the sea anymore, and you could breath (if only a little bit), and there might be a hope for dry land again someday? Was it immediate? Did it take 3 days, 3 weeks, 3 years?

I wonder, if sometimes the darkness at the bottom of the sea is so scary that we block out the memory of it, but with it we then block the memory of being scooped up. Especially because being eaten by a whale does NOT immediately seem like rescue. Right!?! At the bottom of the sea, one condolence card can’t really make a difference – except sometimes it can. Sometimes knowing that someone else grieves with you, or sees you, or can share a memory that gives you a new story about a person you loved – sometimes that can be the whale.

Several years ago during a stewardship campaign, I was gifted the task of asking participants in some of our ministries what our ministries meant to them. As previously mentioned, I have a problematic tendency to be overly pragmatic, and while I delight in our breakfast program, I’m aware that it offers 1 meal out of an wished for 21 for a week. However, our guests assured me that the 1 meal matters.

Similarly, at that time we had Sustain Ministry, where we gave out soap and toilet paper, feminine hygiene products, and diapers to those who needed them. (Note: other organizations now do this work – thank God – and the need we were responding to then has changed.) I asked those waiting if they’d be willing to be interviewed, and I asked them why what we did mattered. One woman said that the resources we offered made the difference for her between being able to take care of her kids on her own and being financially forced back into an abusive relationship.

I loved Sustain ministry, but I thought it just made things a little easier for people whose lives were really hard. I didn’t know it was whale picking someone out of the bottom of the sea.

In the fall of 2021, after about a year and a half of ministry during a pandemic, while adjusting to being a new parent, and with a few other significant stressors in my work life, I was a hairsbreadth away from leaving ministry. Truthfully, I had been, on and off, for 2 years by that point. More so, I didn’t really know it. I knew I was really tired. I knew I felt like my ministry didn’t matter. I knew every day of work was a fight, and I didn’t want to fight anymore. But I actually didn’t know I was near the bottom of the sea in my work, until our District Superintendent looked at me and said, “what you’ve dealt with isn’t normal, you need a break. How long do you want? I’ll find coverage and money to pay for it.” She was the whale, or maybe the 8 weeks I took off were. Maybe both? Let’s go with both.

Sometimes I still meet people who know that I took that break – the announcement of it was shockingly popular on YouTube- and I watch them carefully dance around asking me if I’m still a pastor, or still a pastor here, or really what I do in the world now. They’re often shocked to learn I’m still in ministry and grateful for it. (That’s fair, a whole lot of people have exited ministry since then.) I continue to think I have a lot to learn to be in ministry in life-giving and sustainable ways, but the way I knew I still wanted to be a pastor and YOUR pastor was that once the day-to-day pressures were relieved, I found myself dreaming of what we could do together, and missing you. I’m been in those weeds at the bottom of the sea, pastorally, but I just needed some gulps of fresh air to be able to find the dry land. I’m really thankful there was a whale. And, yet, I didn’t know how important the whale was when it arrived.

Romans 8 speaks of hope particularly directly, reconsidering the struggles of people and the world as labor pains of the kindom of God being born. While I don’t want to sanctify the pains or struggles of the world, it would be really great if they were productive like that. If they mattered, and made new things possible. The essay from “We Cry Justice” today talks about the pain of ecological destruction, and the power of the people to stop horrible decisions, EVEN when money is on the other side. That people, together, have power. Which is a good example of the ways that the pain of the earth can become motivation for healing the earth. It is a way that pains can be labor pains.

Romans 8 also speaks famously about hope. “Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” None of us can see the whale coming when we’re at the bottom of the sea. Nor, even, could we know it is a saving whale if we did. But hope involves knowing that God is with us, and God is creative, and there ARE whales sometimes, and we can BE whales sometimes, and no matter what happens, we know a God who brings life – again and again.

Dear ones, sometimes God sends whales when we are at the bottom of the sea. Thank God. Amen

1For the uninformed: https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/10499923/100+Singalong+Songs+for+Kids/Who+Did+%28Swallow+Jonah%29%3F

February 25, 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

Uncategorized

Untitled

  • December 3, 2023
  • by Sara Baron

“Yearning for Hope” based on Job 24:1-11, 22-25

Today we re-start the Christian Year, the liturgical cycle of waiting, celebrating, growing, waiting, celebrating, growing. We are now back in waiting. I think I fall deeper in love with Advent every year. The more commercialist Christmas pushes red and white, the more I find myself retreating the Advent colors of purple and pink. The more commercialism pushes secular carols, the more I find myself retreating into the quiet of the sanctuary and the integrity of Advent Hymns. The more commercialism pushes sales and deals the more attention I give to Alternative Christmas.

While secular Christmas has its bright, cheery, feel-good energy all around us, Christian Advent calls us to slow down, reflect, savor. Today we lit the candle of hope, one small light in an ever expanding darkness, one small light that will prove to be enough.

Now, I’m not against secular Christmas, I rather like it, but it feels disconnected from the one Christian one. This fall we did a Bible Study on the Christmas Stories in the Gospels, and we compared and contrasted them with our Christmas memories, our Christmas delights, and even the meaning we make from Christmas. (There is a poster in the back inviting you to do the same.) For most of us, Luke’s story of Christmas fit our faith the best, and made the most sense of it all. We also discovered that reading Luke 1 and 2 together made Luke 2 a whole lot more delightful. Luke centers on women, and on the disenfranchised, and the good news to all people. It fits who we seek to be as a church.

But for now, we’re still waiting, right? We’re waiting, and the description of the world being terribly wrong from the Bible’s most depressive abused character (Job) is doing its job of settling us into waiting. The description Job offers is of the world as it is and we YEARN with all our beings for the KINDOM of God where those descriptions no longer apply.

This Christian Year, the Worship Committee has taken seriously a request from the Intersectional Justice Committee to focus together on the book “We Cry Justice” put out by the Poor People’s Campaign. It is a book in 52 parts, meant to be read devotionally, and no matter how many times our Book Club tried, it didn’t become a readable book. It is a devotional book, so they asked if we could incorporate it into worship, and Worship Committee and I thought that was a wonderful idea. We have completed our year with “A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church,” which was a gift from God via Dr. Wil Gafney, and there is space for a different focus.

The Poor People’s Campaign is a group of amazing activists who decided it was time to pick up the mantle from Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr who was himself leading a Poor People’s Campaign at the time of his death. We have been lightly involved with the modern campaign for years, and we have KNOWN that it is one of the ways God is at work in the world, and yet we haven’t quite given it our attention, until now. The book “We Cry Justice” is intentional Biblical interpretation with an eye towards the injustices of the world towards people in poverty. When I wrote them asking for permission to use prayers and quotations in worship they got back to us immediately granting it!

So this year as we settle to wait, our waiting is really defined by our waiting for JUSTICE for the vulnerable and those living in poverty. This fits the life this church particularly well, when I think about what we focus on in mission, while it hasn’t even been a decision exactly, the goals seem to be to lighten the burdens of those living in poverty. We see in our neighbors, our fellow members and worshippers, those dear to us, and quite ourselves the struggles of trying to live in a world that values the creation of capital over the well-being of the vulnerable.

I don’t know about you, but it breaks my heart.

Over and over again.

Actually, I kind of do know about you. I know that this is a community of faith whose belief in God and God’s dreams for the world include knowing that what is just and right in the world is for people to have access to food that is nutritious, delicious and plentiful; to housing that is safe, mold-free, and affordable; and to healthcare that is caring, effective, and doesn’t require declaring bankruptcy. That we are people who believe that God’s desires in the world are for people to live full abundant lives, and we know what is impairing that.

I expect that what I just said was so ridiculously obvious that you don’t know why I’m bothering wasting my breath on it. Thank you for that, because, dear ones, what is clear and obvious here isn’t in the world at large. Our society as a whole is at peace with people being hungry or we would expand SNAP benefits to cover the WHOLE month, expand access to SNAP benefits to everyone who really needs it, and … oh, let’s talk about reality, we wouldn’t have had our federal government cut $22 million from funding for regional food banks that are the last-gap measure between those who are struggling and hunger. (THIS is why we have to go to the store for meat, because the Food Bank can’t afford to get it anymore.) Our society as a whole is at peace with homelessness, or we’d prioritize safe, accessible housing in our budgets and our legislation. Our society as a whole is at peace with people not have access to healthcare, or not being able to afford to access healthcare, or going bankrupt from accessing healthcare or – wait for it – we’d have a different way of providing and funding healthcare.

And when I’m out in the world, listening, a shocking number of people think that those living in poverty should just try harder, or suffer a little because they deserve it, or …. well, basically the assumption is that poverty is the fault of the individual and poverty is the punishment someone deserves for not “succeeding” in capitalism.

Thank God, we see people as beloved children of God worthy of good things and abundant life, and not worthy of being punished because the game is rigged and they can’t win.

Thank God we know a God who is defined by universal love, grace, and mercy. It turns out that matters a lot in what we think justice looks like.

So, here we are on this first Sunday of Advent with one candle-flicker of light in our sanctuary reminding us to hold on to hope. And we have that while we heard words from Job that tell us how the world really is. In “We Cry Justice” Aaron Scott reflects on this Job reading saying:

I see countless tents, tarps, and shacks lining freeway underpasses – up one day, then disappearing the next, removed by cities desperate to keep up appearances instead of keeping up with justice and mercy. I see signs turning parking lots and stoplights across the country into hostile territory: “No Loitering,” “No Illegal Shopping Carts, “No Panhandling.”

And last week while our social worker Sylvester worked to find housing for God’s beloveds who had shown up last week, he confirmed counties in the capital region are buying people bus passes to other counties to avoid the cost of housing them.

The world as it is.

But, dear ones, we aren’t waiting for more of the same. We are waiting for God’s Kindom on earth. And this year, I have noticed something terribly obvious. We aren’t just waiting with our ancestors in faith who also yearned for justice and God’s dreams. I believe we are waiting with God’s own self, God who yearns to see us make different choices and offer better care for God’s vulnerable beloveds.

A challenge of faith today is to look at all the brokenness, all the injustice, all the heartaches, and hold hope. And yet, dear ones, there is plenty. There is hope because God seeks justice. There is hope because this is a community of faith that sees the injustice around us and calls it “immoral.” There is hope because there is a whole Poor People’s Campaign out there working on it! There is hope because God and we, and others along with us, will never concede that this is good enough. There is hope because at the deepest core of reality, there is goodness (God’s goodness) and it is going to break through eventually.

There is hope in this darkness. And the yearning for hope, the yearning for better, the yearning for the kindom is some of the hope itself. Thanks be to God. Amen

December 3, 2023

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

Posts pagination

1 2 3 4
  • First United Methodist Church
  • 603 State Street
  • Schenectady, NY 12305
  • phone: 518-374-4403
  • alt: 518-374-4404
  • email: fumcschenectady@yahoo.com
  • facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady
  • bluesky: @fumcschenectady.bluesky.social
Theme by Colorlib Powered by WordPress