“Grieving What We’ve Lost” based on Psalm 69: 1-3,…

July 3, 2022
by Sara Baron

I don’t even know where to begin.

There are so many layers of lament.

For many years, I have regularly advocated for
Reproductive Justice at the New York State Capital, with both Planned
Parenthood and Clergy for Reproductive Choice. Often, one of the
older women in the groups I was advocating with would wear a hanger –
a hanger necklace, hanger earrings, or carry one with them.

Confession: I thought that was sort of tacky.

Especially before 2016, I didn’t think Roe v. Wade could
really fall, and the reminder that people die from illegal abortions
felt like a narrative from another era.

So, once again, I feel the need to apologize to my
elders for not heeding their wisdom. As I remember those moments
with other advocates, I’ve been considering their ages, and noticing
that they were of reproductive age before 1972. They KNEW the impact
of those hangers. It wasn’t just a part of history to them, and I
think that’s why they KNEW better than I that it could become a part
of the present as well.

That’s one part of it all.

I want to acknowledge that not just women can get
pregnant. There are men and non-binary people who are also at risk.
And for the sake of this sermon, I am going to say “women” and
“mothers” sometimes. These words doesn’t encompass men and
non-binary people, but women are the broadest category of affected
people, and I am going to acknowledge that by using the words “women”
and “mothers.”

Another piece of it all is the is the awareness of how
unequal the impact of this decision will be. Not just in terms of
red states and blue states, although that’s a big deal. But also in
terms of socio-economic status – people of means have ALWAYS had
access to safe, medically appropriate abortions, even if they had to
fly to Europe to get them. As per usual, those who live in poverty
will pay a higher price. AND, it is impossible to ignore that
maternal mortality is abominably high in the United States, and most
of the deaths are black women*¹,
followed by other brown women*, while WHITE women* have pretty
reasonable maternal mortality rates. Which is to say, in stark
terms, that an impact of this decision is that more black women* are
going to die.

To make this even move problematic some of the unspoken
and underlying motivation for abortion bans is white supremacy –
whereby there is a desire to prevent white women* having white babies
from ending those pregnancies, and a willingness to end all abortion
access to keep white women* pregnant with white babies. So that
motivation then ends up killing black and brown women.* There was
Freudian slip this week when a congresswoman called the Supreme Court
decision “a historic victory for white life.”²
It was odd to hear it stated directly instead of just being implied.

That’s a part of it all.

Then there is the normal, obvious part of grief around
this decision: the impact on those who are pregnant and don’t want
to be, and the incredible variation of how that came to be and what
impact it will have on them. Earlier this month The Atlantic
published an article entitled “The Most Important Study in the
Abortion Debate” which reports on the research of Diana Green
Foster looking the difference between what happens to women* who were
or were not able to access an abortion.³
They study lasted for 5 years, and included 1000 people seeking to
end pregnancies. They found that those who were denied an abortion:

were more likely to end
up living in poverty. They had worse credit scores and, even years
later, were more likely to not have enough money for the basics, such
as food and gas. They were more likely to be unemployed. They were
more likely to go through bankruptcy or eviction. “The two groups
were economically the same when they sought an abortion,…one became
poorer.”⁴

Also, those who were denied an abortion were more likely
to be with a partner who abused them, more likely to be a single
parent, had more trouble bonding with their child, felt more trapped,
had more anxiety, had lower self esteem, and were less likely to even
have aspirational life plans. They were sicker. Additionally, two
of the pregnant people denied an abortion died from their pregnancies
(none of the people who had abortions died.)

Since most people seeking an abortion already have kids,
the research was also able to study the impact of not being able to
access an abortion on the existing kids. That is, they were less
likely to hit developmental milestones and more likely to live in
poverty. This truth ALSO applied to children born after the abortion
or lack of one.

And, of course, there
were emotional impacts. “Afterward, nearly all said that
termination had been the right decision. At five years, only 14
percent felt any sadness about having an abortion; two in three ended
up having no or very few emotions about it at all. “Relief” was
the most common feeling, and an abiding one.”⁵

This decision made by the Supreme Court condemns
impoverished women* and families to harder lives, because – as we
know – the ones who are pregnant are the ones who know what is best
for them and their families. The data backs it up. They know when
they can’t adequately care for a child or another child.

So, that’s another part of it.

And also, there are the
pieces where some states are having FULL bans on abortions, without
exceptions for the life of mother**⁶
nor for rape nor incest. Now, I have major concerns about the impact
of having to convince someone you were raped or experienced incest in
order to access healthcare, but nevertheless, the impact of being
forced to carry that child to term is enormous. And, many people
will die simply because of the lack of exception for the life of the
mother**.

So, that’s another part of it.

I’m hoping breaking this up actually helps a little. I
mean, it is depressing, I know. But when all of it swirls together
into one huge overwhelming grief, it feels even more out of control.
Knowing there are layers helps me distinguish between them.

I am now at the personal layer, the place where grief is
for me. Not just for me, but for me. The decision tells me that I
do not have authority over my own body. I don’t have a right to my
own body. “Big brother” has the right to tell me what I can and
cannot do with MY BODY.

When this decision came out, I became a second class
citizen. SOME PEOPLE in this country have rights over their body. I
am no longer one of them. SOME PEOPLE have bodily autonomy. I am no
longer one of them. SOME PEOPLE have a right to life-saving
healthcare. I am no longer one of them.

To go back to The
Atlantic, “The legal and
political debate about abortion in recent decades has tended to focus
more on the rights and experience of embryos and fetuses than the
people who gestate them.”⁷

My body, in this country, has more value as a womb for a
future human than as an existing human.

The Supreme Court gaveth, and the Supreme Court tooketh
away.

The history of women* as being property of men is still
present, and still having impact. We are now, it seems, property of
the state who can tell us what we can and cannot do with OUR BODIES.

That’s another part.

And, a friend on FB this week put things into some
context. She is a person of color. She said, “If they’re willing
to do this to white women, I shudder to think what they’re willing to
do to us.” I’m aware that some of the strength of my horror at
having bodily autonomy taken from me comes from the fact that I
thought it was mine to begin with. Which has a lot to do with my
places of privilege in society.

That’s another part.

And along with it, is the fact that I live in New York ,
which not only protects the right to abortion but isn’t even one of
the border states people will flock to when they lose privileges in
their own state. (OK, fine, I hope. May my birth state of PA hold
strong.)

What I’ve lost is more theoretical than for those who
have actually lost the rights to their bodies in their states, and I
have to hold that in tension too.

That’s another part.

Those are many of the pieces of grief and tension I’ve
been experiencing. These are my current lament, and I think the
Bible shows us that lament is important.

But what do we do NOW?

Where is that good news God appointed Isaiah and Jesus
to share? Where is the good news for the POOR? For the captives in
their own bodies, the oppressed?

I may be stating the obvious, but it isn’t here yet.

But, we don’t stop there.

We also do what we’ve done today. We grieve, because
there has been loss. AND, we deny the narrative. The state has said
I don’t have authority over my body, and many of the rest of you
don’t too.

That may be LEGALLY true, but it is morally and
ethnically bankrupt. The state cannot take away the sanctity of
bodily autonomy, the value of human rights. We deny the power of the
state to bureaucratically take dominion over human bodies, and we do
so in whatever means necessary. Because GOD is the one who said we
are created in the image of God, and our lives are sacred, and the
state can’t take away what God has endowed.

There is a wonderful tradition of progressive Christian
activism to support those in need of abortions, and the strength of
that tradition will be a part of what guides us now. There are
amazing new leaders emerging, and part of our work is to listen for
great ideas and support them. There are groups led by those who know
EXACTLY what to do to support the most vulnerable, and we support
those groups.

In the meantime, I suggest we all take some inventories
of the spiritual and physical resources we have available to us
(communal and individual) so we know what we have to offer when
support is asked of us.

God doesn’t let oppression stand. We’re working with
God towards justice, and listening to the urgings of the Spirit and
the wisdom of those impacted as we find our ways forward in this new
(and old) struggle. Amen

1*women,
girls, and people who can get pregnant.

2 https://www.npr.org/2022/06/26/1107710215/roe-overturned-mary-miller-historic-victory-for-white-life

3Annie
Lowry, “The Most Important Study in the Abortion Debate”
published in The Atlantic on
Jun2 11, 2022. Accessed June 30, 2022.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2022/06/abortion-turnaway-study-roe-supreme-court/661246/

4Lowry.

5Lowry.

6**Mother
or parent.

7Lowry.

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 3, 2022

Uncategorized

“Consolation” based on Isaiah 61:10-62:3 and Luke 2:22-40

December 27, 2020
by Sara Baron

A
month ago, the words to the hymn “Come Ye Disconsolate” jumped
off the page at me. It isn’t a hymn well known to me, until that
point I’d picked it once in 14 years, but it fit the moment too well
to ignore:

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er
ye languish;
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here
bring your wounded hearts; here tell your anguish.
Earth has no
sorrow that heaven cannot heal.¹

Disconsolate
means “without consolation or comfort.”²
I checked to be sure I had that right.

Perhaps,
then, it is not surprising what I heard and noticed in today’s Gospel
lesson that had never pulled my attention before. Parker read verse
25, “ Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this
man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of
Israel,…” and I thought “consolation!? I never noticed that
before” Followed by, “what does that really mean?” I figured
it meant …. something to do with the Messiah.

The
New Interpreter’s Bible says, “The ‘consolation of Israel’ was a
term for the restoration of the people and the fulfillment of God’s
redemptive work. … The term comes from references in Isaiah:

Comfort, O comfort my people
says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem (Isaiah 40:1-2 NRVS
cf. 49:13)

For the Lord will comfort
Zion (Isaiah 51:3 NRSV)

Break forth together into
singing, you ruins of Jerusalem;

for the LORD has comforted
his people, he has redeemed Jerusalem (Isaiah 52:9 NRSV, cf
66:10-13)”³

Right.
So this was about the Messiah, who for the Jewish people was the one
would bring the fulfillment of God’s promises of restoration.

How
interesting it is that it is called the “consolation” and focuses
on comfort! Simeon is a man introduced as waiting for God to act to
bring comfort, and trusting that God would. Then, when he sees the
baby Jesus, he sees this as the fulfillment of the promise that he
would see God’s Messiah. The story also says that a holy prophet,
Anna, saw and understood who Jesus was.

Jesus
as comforter, Jesus as consolation. That is both a familiar and
unfamiliar idea to me. I grew up with it, but that version was
very… milquetoast. Jesus was presented as available to me to make
me feel better when I was sad, to listen to me, to be my friend.
And, I think all of that is true. But as I’ve grown, I’ve become
equally interested in the idea that God wants good things for
EVERYONE, and in order to make that possible, I need to participate
in building a just society. God doesn’t just LISTEN, God wants to
help, and we are God’s hands and feet in the world.

The
expectations for the Messiah at the time of Jesus were for a king /
prophet / general who would restore the nation of Israel to political
and military prominence. As you may have noticed, Jesus didn’t do
that, but as Christians we tend to claim that what he did do was
better!

I’ve
been told many times that my job is to comfort the afflicted and
afflict the comforted, which interestingly was originally said about
the role of journalists. This year, I think we’re all the
afflicted, so my attention has been largely on comfort.

This
week I read a wonderful article entitled, “Jesus wasn’t born in a
stable and that makes all the difference.”⁴
I bet you can deduce the point from the title 😉 The author makes a
substantive argument that the word “inn” is mistranslated in Luke
2:7(b) “She wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in the
manger because there was no room for them in the inn.” A better
word would be “spare room.” As in “she was out in the main
family room with the family and the livestock because the spare room
was already overflowing.” Jewish peasants at the time kept animals
with them in their homes. And throughout the Middle East it would be
UNTHINKABLE not to stay with family if you have family.

The
author’s primary point is that when we think of Jesus being born out
in a stable, his family rejected by everyone, alone and distanced
from everyone. That is, we tend to think of Jesus being born
APART. Luke’s actual story puts Jesus in the middle of a small
house filled with a lot of family, so stuffed that the only
reasonable place left to put the baby down was in the
dug-into-the-ground animal feeding troughs. (A place he wouldn’t
roll away.)

The
“spare room” translation makes it clear that Jesus was part of
the Jewish peasantry. So does the detail in today’s reading about
giving a sacrifice, and the fact that what was given was the poor
person’s gift, for those who couldn’t afford the more expensive “a
whole lamb” option.

Remembering
that Jesus was born into a devout, poor, Jewish family helps me
understand his role as comforter. There is an understanding of pain
and a yearning for justice that fits having grown up both poor and
devout.

I
do think that old quote is true, of journalists, of preachers, and
even of Jesus himself. Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the
comfortable. And, dear ones, most of us are both. And, more than at
most points in our lives, we’re the afflicted. So, may you make
space in your being to accept the comfort and love of God. “Earth
has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.” NOT EVEN 2020.

And
that’s some good Christmas news.

Amen

1United
Methodist Hymnal #510

2Summarized
from Apple Dictionary

3
R. Alan Culpepper, “Luke,” in The New Interpreter’s
Bible Vol. 9 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994): 70.

4 https://www.psephizo.com/biblical-studies/jesus-wasnt-born-in-a-stable-and-that-makes-all-the-difference/

Sermons

Untitled

January 19, 2020February 11, 2020
by Sara Baron

Two
years ago, our niece got a new game for Christmas: Harry Potter,
Hogwarts Battle. We usually spend New Years together, and it is a
great 4 person game, so Kevin and I got to break into the game with
our niece and her mother. It is now fair to say that this is our
favorite game, and the four us clocked A LOT of hours playing it.

Beyond
the really fun Harry Potter connections, and the truly excellent game
design, I think we all love it so much because it is a collaborative
game. The players are all working together towards a goal, so in the
end either everyone wins or everyone loses. Which also means that no
one of us ends up as the winner while the rest of us have lost.
Truthfully, I really like board games, and most of the ones I play
have winners and losers, and I’m generally OK with that, but there is
something really great about a collaborative game. It is especially
engaging because each choice we make impacts each other player, so we
have to pay attention to what each person needs and what each
person’s strengths are, and how each person can make the best use of
their strengths.

The
game is hard, and we lose sometimes. Really, we lose about half of
the games we play, and we sometimes give up a game before playing
just because the starting conditions are too difficult. But the
collaboration makes it interesting enough that even losing isn’t THAT
bad. (Most of the time.)

I
find it interesting that the collaborative game is so much fun. When
I was growing up our church had a copy “The Ungame” which was
mean to be a fun game that was collaborative rather than competitive,
and while I fully support the creators and their intentions it was
the least fun game imaginable. Yet,
there is so much already in our capitalistic society that is
inherently about winners and losers, and zero sum games, and
competing against each other – and I’m really, really glad that
there are now super fun games that don’t buy into that model.

Collaborative
games seem more like the model of working for the common good. Maybe
it is just because I was born and raised in the Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania, but the moment when I finally actually noticed the word
“commonwealth” and thought about what it meant was eye-opening
for me. I think of the common good and commonwealths as other ways
of speaking about the kindom.

Over
the past 3+ years we’ve talked about Intersectional Justice and
Intersectionality a lot, but just in case the ideas are still fuzzy
for you, here is MFSA’s definition of its “intersectional
organizing principal.”

All experiences of marginalization
and injustice are interconnected because the struggle for justice is
tied to concepts of power and privilege. Intersectional organizing
recognizes that injustice works on multiple and simultaneous levels.
Because experiences of injustice do not happen in a vacuum, it is
imperative to: develop the most effective strategies to create space
for understanding privilege; organize in an intersectional framework
led by marginalized communities; and build effective systems of
resistance and cooperation to take action for justice. Practical
intersectional organizing always focuses on collaboration and
relationship building.

To
bring that a little bit more into reality, intersectionality means
acknowledging that working on ONE issue and making as small as
possible so you can make some gains really doesn’t help that much.
For example, it is said that 101 years ago women gained the right to
vote in NY state, that misses that it only applied to white women.
That came from a choice to empower white women at the expense of
women of color and was NOT intersectional organizing. There have
been a LOT of times organizing has worked this way, most of the time
it has worked this way, and it has done a lot of harm.

During
an anti-white supremacy training, I was taught to think holistically
about power. That is, we all know what traits are most associated
with power in our society: white, male, rich, straight, English
speaking, cisgender, citizen, with a full range of ableness,
educated, tall… etc, right? In each case, there is an opposite to
the description that is disempowered. I’m expecting you are
following thus far. Well, because the people who have the traits
connected to power control the resources, they use most of them! And
then, it turns out, the people who are DISCONNECTED from power end up
fighting to get access to the scraps of resources that the powerful
are willing to share. There are two
REALLY bad parts of this – first of all, to get access to those
resources usually means playing by the rules of the ones who have
power, and secondly, those without power are usually set up to fight
AGAINST EACH OTHER for access to those scraps.

That
is, when white women decided to try to get the vote for themselves,
and not seek voting rights for all women, they made a decision to
play by the rules of how power already worked, and to distance
themselves from people of color to try to get what they wanted and
needed. And, this happens time and time again.

Intersectionality
is about seeing the wholeness of the power dynamics, and the
complicated realities of people – who all have power in some ways
and lack power in others – and holding the whole together while
working for good. It is really, really hard.

It
is probably also why I teared up when reading Isaiah this week. The
passage quotes God as saying, “It is too light a thing that you
should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore
the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.“ The way I
heard that was, don’t just work for the benefit of a few, even if
they are the ones you identify with – work for the well being of
ALL. And all, in all places, including enemy nations!!

Rev.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. is best known for his transformational
work on racial justice, work that make our country noticeably better.
Yet, at the end of his life, he had broadened his work, and was
organizing around poverty. As several of the past year’s
Intersectional Justice Book Club books have pointed out, the powers
that exist in the United States have VERY INTENTIONALLY used race to
divide people, in large part so that impoverished white people and
impoverished people of color wouldn’t start working together against
their common oppressor. Dr. King’s Poor People’s Campaign was
designed to bring people together for their common good, and truly
for every’s good. As King once said, “In your struggle for
justice, let your oppressor know that you are not attempting to
defeat or humiliate him, or even to pay him back for injustices that
he has heaped upon you. Let him know that you are merely seeking
justice for him as well as yourself.” Because, truly, oppressing
anyone harms both the oppressed AND inherently, the oppressor.

Today,
other’s have picked up Dr. King’s mantle, and there is an active Poor
People’s Campaign underway. While their “Fundamental Principals”
are expansive – there are 12 – they are a coherent whole and I
couldn’t edit them down. I want you hear, and be filled with hope,
and maybe even be motivated to work with this campaign, so here they
are:

We are rooted
in a moral analysis based on our deepest religious and
constitutional values that demand justice for all. Moral revival is
necessary to save the heart and soul of our democracy.
We
are committed to lifting up and deepening the leadership of those
most affected by systemic racism, poverty, the war economy, and
ecological devastation and to building unity across lines of
division.
We
believe in the dismantling of unjust criminalization systems that
exploit poor communities and communities of color and the
transformation of the “War Economy” into a “Peace Economy”
that values all humanity.
We
believe that equal protection under the law is non-negotiable.
We
believe that people should not live in or die from poverty in the
richest nation ever to exist. Blaming the poor and claiming that the
United States does not have an abundance of resources to overcome
poverty are false narratives used to perpetuate economic
exploitation, exclusion, and deep inequality.
We
recognize the centrality of systemic racism in maintaining economic
oppression must be named, detailed and exposed empirically, morally
and spiritually. Poverty and economic inequality cannot be
understood apart from a society built on white supremacy.
We
aim to shift the distorted moral narrative often promoted by
religious extremists in the nation from issues like prayer in
school, abortion, and gun rights to one that is concerned with how
our society treats the poor, those on the margins, the least of
these, women, LGBTQIA folks, workers, immigrants, the disabled and
the sick; equality and representation under the law; and the desire
for peace, love and harmony within and among nations.
We
will build up the power of people and state-based movements to serve
as a vehicle for a powerful moral movement in the country and to
transform the political, economic and moral structures of our
society.
We
recognize the need to organize at the state and local level—many
of the most regressive policies are being passed at the state level,
and these policies will have long and lasting effect, past even
executive orders. The movement is not from above but below.
We
will do our work in a non-partisan way—no elected officials or
candidates get the stage or serve on the State Organizing Committee
of the Campaign. This is not about left and right, Democrat or
Republican but about right and wrong.
We
uphold the need to do a season of sustained moral direct action as a
way to break through the tweets and shift the moral narrative. We
are demonstrating the power of people coming together across issues
and geography and putting our bodies on the line to the issues that
are affecting us all.
The Campaign
and all its Participants and Endorsers embrace nonviolence. Violent
tactics or actions will not be tolerated.

This
campaign is DEEPLY good news. I encourage you to look them up, their
demands are even better (but ever longer) and well worth the read.
There are a lot of opportunities to volunteer with and support the
Poor People’s Campaign, and I’d be happy to connect to to those who
are organizing – as would your Intersectional Justice chairs.

Working
towards justice for all is really, really hard work. It can even be
overwhelming, but as Isaiah says, God is out for the well-being of
the whole world. Before you get overwhelmed though, let me remind
you that God has a LOT of partners in this work and no ONE of us is
called to do all the work. In fact, we’re called to trust each other
and each other’s work, and to carefully discern what our work is to
do. Love exists, its power can spread, justice is possible, and good
people are at work. We are meant to be a light to ALL the nations,
and with God at our backs, we can and we will. And it is possible
because of collaboration. Thanks be to God. 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

January 19, 2019

Sermons

“The Kindom of God”based on Psalm 42:1-6a, Luke 8:26-39

June 19, 2016February 15, 2020
by Sara Baron

I spent a large portion of my seminary years at a gay nightclub called Oasis, which, as it was located in “The Inland Empire” in Southern California was largely populated by Latino men. Being a pastoral intern and learning how to be a pastor often felt like walking on a tightrope. Being a seminarian felt like being a head without a body. I went to the club to hang out with my friends. I went to the club to dance. I went to the club in defiance of what everyone expected me to be doing in seminary. I went to the club because it was so much nicer than going to straight clubs and being creepily hit on.

Mostly though, I went to the club to be more fully human. The darkened space, the deep pulsing of the bass, the squeals of delight, the sweating bodies, and the freedom to MOVE balanced my life. It got me out of my head, and into the wholeness of my body. It was a sanctuary from TRYING so hard to BE and to BECOME someone other than who I was. It was part of being a whole person, and not just a desexualized, dehumanized, pastoral person. It was fun, it was ridiculous at times, and it was definitely fully embodied.

As a straight, white, cisgender seminary student, the mostly Latin gay club was a sanctuary for the fullness of my humanity. It was safe space to be. For the men I went dancing with, the space was far more important. It was community, it was family, (it was a dating pool), it was space where they were allowed to look at (and often touch) other men without reproach. For the men and women who might otherwise have been closeted, I suspect the space was even more important. It was a place to be accepted as who they were, even if mostly anonymously. For those from families and communities who believed that God’s grace had limits, it was space to shake off those shackles and be free.

All week I’ve heard of the gay club as “sanctuary,” and all the more so on Latin night for people who are Latino, Latina, and Latinx. Personally, I believe it, because on my own micro scale, I’ve lived it. I believe it, because I can imagine a little bit, how much more important the experience of sanctuary has been for those for whom the space was actually made – the very same people for whom most churches are places of violence rather than safety.

As followers of Jesus, our lives are meant to be focused on building the kindom of God. It is the work that Jesus was doing in his life time, and it is the work we continue as the Body of Christ through our lifetimes. The kindom of God is the world as God would have it be: a time when the resources of the world are shared with freedom and all people have enough to survive and thrive. The kindom of God is the time when all people treat each other as the closest of kin, taking care of each other and supporting each other’s needs.

This was the work of Jesus. He found ways to help people connect with each other and support each other even in the midst of the challenges of the Roman Empire’s occupation of Galilee and Judea. This is the work we are still at. Weeks like this past one are ones when we are particularly aware of how far the world is from the kindom.

Like broken Gentile man in the gospel, the brokenness of our world is Legion. Thinking only of Orlando, there are so many ways that the kindom of God was desecrated. The work of the kindom is toward peace and wholeness: violence defiled it. The work of the kindom is toward safety and security: gunshots profaned it. The work of the kindom is to end racism and acknowledge the profound beauty and humanity of people with all skin tones: the kindom was violated when ever more vulnerable brown-skipped bodies were filled with bullets. The work of the kindom is to eliminated xenophobia and acknowledge our shared humanity with people from all nations and ethnicity: the kindom was profaned in the targeted attack on the Latin community. The work of the kindom is to build up the vulnerable and enable all people to live full and abundant lives: the kindom was defaced when the targeted population was the vulnerable LGBTQI community. The work of the kindom is to care for the sick and injured, including the mentally ill and injured: the work of the kindom was dishonored by the ways the shooter failed to be treated.

Friends, a massacre happened at a gay club on Latin night. The horrors are Legion. The world is so broken.

Yet, our question today is the same question we bring everyday: what is our role in bringing the kindom of God today? It seems that there are many ways forward. One is living into the grief, which must be one. Another is in letting the anger within us rise and motivated us to action, which also must be done. But for today, for this one day, my sense is that our role in brining the kindom of God is to at rest and to be comforted. The comfort won’t take away the grief, and it won’t take away the anger. But in the midst of tragedy, one of God’s yearnings is to comfort the people, and one of our responsibilities is to receive the comfort.

In our tradition, even Sunday is seen as a mini-Easter, a day to remember the power of God to bring life into the world. In our tradition, as in many, the space in which we gather to worship is a “sanctuary.” The word itself comes from Latin through French, deriving from Latin “sanctus” for “holy.” Because the law of the medieval church held that no one could be arrested in a sanctuary, another meaning derived as well, one that indicates that a fugitive is safe and immune from those who would harm them. At times, our church sanctuaries still function in that way.

Gathering together in holy space, where all are meant to be safe, to celebrate the work of the Living God over and over again is part of the rhythm and ritual of building the kindom. Our sanctuaries are the places we experience enough safety to be able to connect with God, with each other, and with the deepest parts of ourselves. They are imperative to the creation of the kindom, as they are what the kindom will actually be (just on a bigger scale!) They are imperative to the creation of the kindom because they form us into kindom people.

Gathering in this space today, we bring with us grief, anger, confusion, and fear – at least. In this sacred space I hope we are able to let go of our grip on each of those and let God’s love and hope find a home in us again. We gather in this space, letting God comfort and heal us, resting in faith that God’s comfort and healing will be with all those who need it.As one scholar reminded me this week, “the words ‘heal’ and ‘save’ are the same in Greek.”¹ That’s a fact to put in your memory bank and keep the next time someone says something theologically stupid. It will keep your head from exploding. 😉 One of the most consistent messages of Christianity has been “Our God saves.” When translated to “Our God heals” this is a message to soak in. In the Gospel lesson, God working through Jesus heals a man whose harms are “Legion.” In and through us, and others, God is at work to heal the world’s Legion harms as well.

Some of our response requires us to pay attention to grace, wonder, and beauty around us. Today we had the opportunity to participate in the sacrament of baptism, officially welcoming Kate Rosemary into the Body of Christ, and promising to teach her how to love God and God’s people. What a source of wonder she is! What a joy it is to see her thriving! What a source of life renewal and energy she is! This beautiful, happy baby and her loving wise parents remind us of the goodness of life. The wonder of baptism reminds us all that we are welcome among God’s people. There is a lot to be grateful for.

Today we also have the opportunity to celebrate the High School graduation of Chris Rambo Jr. As many here remember, Chris Jr. and his faith Chris Sr. came to this church when Chris Jr. was young and many pieces of his soul still hurt. Chris Sr. was in the process of adopting him, a call he had known for many years. This church baptized Chris Jr., and confirmed him, has celebrated him and occasionally scolded him, loved him, and expressed how proud they are of him.

I don’t know what Chris Jr.’s live would have been like without Chris Sr., but I imagine most of his achievements would not have been possible. He would not have been on the Academic Honor Roll at the Capital Region Career and Technical School in his Junior and Senior Years. He would not have volunteered for the Crop Walk, fundraised for the BOCES Christmas Toy Drive, packed Thanksgiving dinners, insulated homes for Habitat for Humanity and Global Volunteers, walked dogs at the Damien Center, performed hurricane relief in Schoharie County, sang Christmas carols to shut-ins, performed maintenance at Sky Lake Camp & Retreat Center, and served many breakfasts and dinners at First United Methodist and Schenectady City Mission. He would have not become a volunteer fire fighter, nor a certified scuba diver, nor Red Cross certified in First Aid and CPR for Adults, Children,

and Infants. He likely would not have been able to play volleyball, wrestling, and basketball for Guilderland. And quite likely his life would not have made it possible for him to enter the Automotive Technology Program at Hudson Valley Community College this Fall.

God’s love has been the motivating force in Chris Sr.’s life for a very long time. God nudged Chris to become a father to someone who needed him, and Chris to the call very seriously. Chris Jr. was a hurting, struggling kid whose life has been transformed by his father’s love and by the love of the adults he has come to know through his many activities and this church. His life and his successes are proof of the power of the love of God in the world. Healing has come. Life is good. There is much to be grateful for.

Friends who went to Orlando this week reported the existence of dance parties. The LGBTQI community was healing itself through dance. The Latino/Latina/Latinx community was healing itself through dance. The same experience that had been violated with horrific violence was reclaimed to continue its work of healing. There are many too deep in grief to dance. There are may too profoundly wounded to dance. There are way too many who will never dance again. Yet those who could and would, danced. The life-force in them required reclaiming their bodies, their anthems, their lives, their space, their sanctuaries.

It is time to reclaim sanctuaries. I say this as act of defiance. Acts of terrorism and violence, particularly mass murders in communal spaces are intended to make us afraid. Sanctuaries have been violated, but they must be reclaimed. Fear has been poured into the water of our country and our world, but we cannot continue to drink from it.

We must reclaim sanctuary in this space and for the world for the sake of the kindom. We be formed into full expressions of God’s love while we live in fear. So, our work is to make space for the wonder: for Katie Rosemary, for Chris Jr, and for dance parties. Our work is to attend to the goodness along with the horrors. Our work is to find space and people among whom we feel safe and to soak in the goodness. Our “work” is to let God comfort us, and bring us rest. Having hung with God before, I suspect this work will transform itself soon enough! We might as well enjoy Sabbath, Sanctuary, rest and comfort for now – for the sake of the kindom. Amen

Sermon Talkback Questions

What emotions did you bring with you today?
Are there other aspects of the Legions of horrors that need to be named?
When have you experienced sanctuary most profoundly?
What do you sense God calling you/us to today?
What else is necessary in you/us to feed us for the building of the kindom?
I listed Kate’s baptism, Chris Jr’s graduation, (really, Chris Sr’s adoption of Chris Jr), and dance parties in Orlando as signs of hope. I really wanted to add the “act of nonconformity” passed by the New England Annual Conference. What else did you want to add?
How else do we reject fear?
Where and how else can we work to reclaim sacred space? (Dancing works for me, what works for you?)

1 James W. Thomas “Exegetical Perspective on Luke 8:26-39” , p. 171 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).

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Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 19, 2016