“Mother Hen” based on Psalm 118:1-6, 26-29 and Luke…

March 13, 2022
by Sara Baron

There are these contrasts in the Bible, these ways that
what is written is so shocking that we can’t even hear it most of the
time. Human brains are mostly set on autopilot, and we conflate what
we hear with what we already believe to be true. This can make it
hard to hear the Bible as it is, because we end up softening edges
that are actually quite hard!

Specifically, I think it could be easy to hear Jesus
say, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as
a hen gathers her brood under her wings” and think, “aw, that’s
sweet, Jesus loves me and wants to protect me.” Which, I grant
you, is a part of the meaning. But, it overlooks the radicalness of
that meaning.

Debie Thomas starts to explain it this way:

Here’s what I find so startling about the image.
If maternal power, acumen, or success were the characteristics Jesus
wanted to emphasize in his choice of metaphor, he could have used any
number of more appropriate Old Testament images to make his point.
God as enraged she-bear (Hosea 13:8). God as soaring mother
eagle (Deuteronomy 32:11-12). God as laboring woman (Isaiah
42:14). God as mom of a healthy, happy toddler (Psalm 131:2).
God as skilled midwife (Psalm 22:9-10). But those are not the
images he chooses. Instead, on this second Sunday in Lent,
Luke’s gospel invites us to contemplate Jesus as a mother hen whose
chicks don’t want her. Though she stands with her wings wide open,
offering welcome, belonging, and shelter, her children refuse to come
home to her. Her wings — her arms — are empty.
This, in other words, is a mother bereft. A mother in
mourning. A mother struggling with failure and futility.¹

Whoa.

And, I think, since this is about Jerusalem which was
the Jewish center of power and influence (and lack of power and lack
of influence), and because Luke’s gospel was written AFTER the
destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE, I don’t think we’re supposed to
miss the contrast between a mother hen reaching out empty wings and
wishing to protect her chicks with…the golden eagle that the Roman
Empire used as a symbol of its imperial power.

This is where we are dealing with God and Jesus upending
our expectations. In a contrast between an eagle and a chicken, we’d
expect God to be the eagle, RIGHT? (We do have that imagery in
Deuteronomy, as Debie mentioned.) But, no. Here we have a contrast
between a strong predator and a vulnerable prey, and we’re told that
Jesus is like the prey- and WORSE, like the prey trying with all her
might to protect her even more vulnerable young and failing to do so.

This sort of turns my stomach.

I see in my head Ukrainian and Ethiopian mothers holding
their babies while bombs drop around them.

But, that also clarifies the image for me. If bombs are
dropping on mothers hovering over their babies to try to keep them
alive, and the choice is to see God in the bombs or in the mothers,
then the choice is easy – God is the one hovering trying to
protect, even when God can’t protect.

It still turns my stomach though.

And I can see why people might prefer to think of God in
the power of the bomb rather than the powerlessness of the mother. I
think we’d expect the eagle, not the mother hen. But, that’s not the
God we worship.

I don’t think it can be ignored that Luke is using this
passage to foreshadow Jesus’s death and resurrection. The Jesus
seminar believes this whole passage to be a creation of Luke, a way
he was trying to make sense of Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection.

The Pharisees are warning Jesus that if he doesn’t
change his ministry, he’ll get killed. This is true. But Jesus
responds that he isn’t done doing the work he needs to do. They want
him to be afraid, and have that fear change his path. Jesus seems to
understand, but he holds strong in the face of the fear. He knows
his own vulnerability, he understands it, but he doesn’t let it
change his path. A mother hen is vulnerable, but she still stretches
out her wings for the MORE vulnerable chicks.

The mother hen metaphor fits terrifyingly well with the
reality of Jesus’s impending death. Debie Thomas writes, “Yes,
Jesus mocks Herod by calling him a fox. But he never argues
that the fox isn’t dangerous. He never promises his children
immunity from harm. I mean, let’s face it — if a determined
fox wants to kill a brood of downy chicks, he will find a way to do
so. What Jesus the mother hen offers is not the absence of
danger, but the fullness of his unguarded, open-hearted, wholly
vulnerable self in the face of all that threatens and scares us.”²

This, of course, suggests that the sort of strength God
offers, the sort of strength God asks for from us, isn’t the golden
eagle or bomb kind. It is the vulnerable kind.

That’s the world-turned-upside-down-by-faith bit. What
on earth is vulnerable strength? (Except maybe everything?) Isn’t
that just strength in weakness? Yeah. It probably is. That’s the
God being unexpected thing. Vulnerable strength is a mother hen,
with wings open, ready to protect any chick willing to huddle under
them, when even she herself may be swept away, but if she is, the
chicks may be able to live.

To get good at vulnerability as strength though,
probably doesn’t require having to practice at the threat of life
level. To be ready to do that sort of vulnerability requires
practice with the so-called easy stuff, to build up our vulnerability
muscles. Vulnerability is saying, “I’m scared,” or “I’m sad,”
rather than putting on a mask of impenetrability and pushing through.
Vulnerability is saying, “I don’t know,” and taking the risk
someone might think we’re ill-informed, or “I can’t” when someone
might find you weak (or not trying hard enough.) Vulnerability is
allowing ourselves to see other people’s pain without looking away or
running to a quick fix. (This. Is. Hard.)

Vulnerability is staying with our own pain, rather than
pushing it away, or pushing it down, running to a quick fix, or
trying to push it off on someone else. (#blame).

For many Christians, the “incarnation” is the
ultimate example of vulnerability. The idea is that God who is GOD,
the creator of all that is, takes on human vulnerability, pain, and
mortality in the form of Jesus, and in doing so moves from
invulnerable to vulnerable to be with us.

Truth be told, I have never resonated with that even
when theologians I otherwise adore say so. A friend of mine, for
whom incarnation is one of the most important parts of his faith,
laughed at me once about that and said, “but aren’t you a
panentheist?” (Translation: don’t you believe that God is
EVERYWHERE, in EVERYTHING, and all that is exists within the Divine?)
Well, yes, I am. He said, so doesn’t that make the incarnation sort
of… redundant for you?

That was a helpful ah ha moment, because, for me it is.
(If you are a person who derives great meaning from incarnation,
please know that you are in the majority, and I’m the odd one out,
but I’m going to keep talking because sometimes others are also “odd
ones out” and like to know they aren’t alone.)

I believe God already has all the vulnerability in the
world – literally. God is with ALL those who are struggling, in
EVERY way. I believe in a vulnerable God.

Which is to say that I believe vulnerability is sacred.

And, because I try to practice it regularly, I believe
vulnerability is really, really hard work. Especially when one is
trying to practice vulnerability for the sake of honesty and
connection, and modeling that none of us are impenetrable – but
trying to do that without causing undo harm to others. The balance
is not easy to find, and I am quite capable of having “vulnerability
hangovers” (a term I believe was coined by Brene Brown). That is,
while I’m pushing vulnerability today, but I’m acknowledging that
it can also be wielded as a tool in some cases, and that’s not what
we’re going for here. We’re dealing with weakness and vulnerability,
not to use them as tools to manipulate others, or gain power over
others.

Rather, if God is vulnerable, then we are not excused
from our own vulnerability, nor asked to pretend it away. I think
this is why Ash Wednesday starts Lent by asking us to remember that
we are mortal, so that we can remember to live our lives with
intention. When we are vulnerable, we remember how tender we are,
how easily hurt, how close things that could harm us are, and we open
ourselves to those who are hurt, or harmed, or displaced, or
attacked. And when our hearts break open to allow others in, we are
moved – once again – to create a world that is more just and
equitable so that the MOST vulnerable are no longer forced take the
pain the most powerful avoid.

That, I think, is the power of vulnerability: the power
to break our hearts open which moves us to create a better world.

May God help us, all.

Amen

1Debie
Thomas, “I Have Longed” Lectionary Essay for March 13, 2022,
https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/3341-i-have-longed

2Ibid.

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 13, 2022

Sermons

“Hungry People, Frightened Disciples” based on 2 Kings 4:42-44 and…

July 29, 2018February 15, 2020
by Sara Baron

I have a tendency to get caught up in miracles stories and miss their points. Were there really 5000 people there? Does that include or exclude women and children? Did this happen in the country, in a city, or in the Transjordan (as various gospels purport)? Are we to understand this as the loaves and fishes literally being expansive? Are we to assume that one person’s generosity enabled others to share as well? Or, is this really another way of explaining communion, and we are to attend to the ways that small piece of the bread of life can feed our souls?

(I think for John, this is the communion story. He doesn’t have communion on Jesus’ last night because he has footwashing. And the verbs fit. John has Jesus take the bread, give thanks, distribute them … and also the fish, which seems a solid variation on the cup.)

My questions are ones I’m interested in, BUT they’re distractions. However, as much as I want to make sense of the story by assessing the veracity of the details, the Bible doesn’t work that way! The Bible simply isn’t obsessed with factuality the way that moderns are. The Bible thinks that it is OK have 4 or 5 totally different versions of the same stories (like this one), and doesn’t mind the differences between them. That would seem to indicate that the details aren’t the point!! The Bible speaks in METAPHOR, because it speaks of things that are bigger than facts.

That being said, I think one of the easiest ways to figure out what metaphors and truths the Bible is trying to get to is to pay attention to the ways that stories are adapted as they are retold. One of the most common ways that the Gospels make sense of Jesus is by using references to Hebrew Bible leaders. For instance, the Gospel of Matthew spends a lot of energy constructing Jesus as the “new Moses” including having him come back in to the Promised Land from Egypt. Matthew and Luke each find a way to speak of Jesus as the “new David” by making sure to place his birth in Bethlehem. All of the Gospels also compare Jesus to the greatest prophets of the Hebrew Tradition, Elijah and Elisha, and this story is one of those examples.

Elijah came first. His story of miraculous feeding found in 1 Kings 17:8-16. That story tells of the prophet, who was on the run, being instructed to go to a poor widow’s house so that the widow would feed him. He was hungry and in need of food because of a drought, a drought that he had predicted would come, a drought that the Bible presents as an expression of God’s displeasure at royal behavior. Elijah wasn’t the only one who was hungry because of the drought. The widow he was sent to was also a mother, and she had only a small bit of meal and a tiny bit of oil left to her name. When the prophet asked for some bread, she responded, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.” (NRSV, v. 12) The prophet asked for some of the tiny bit she had left, and she gave it to him. Somehow, the widow, her child, and the prophet had enough to eat for many days, and survived.

The Bible is affirming in this story that God is with Elijah. It is also telling us that what seems like a small and insufficient gift can be quite useful and abundant when given to God.

When Elijah died, his mentee Elisha was given his mantle and sent to continue his work as a prophet. At that point, the Bible spends some time showing that the miracles God worked for Elijah, God also worked for Elisha, proving that the mantle had been passed metaphorically and not just physically. A mantle is a long, sleeveless cloak. In this case it represented the power of the prophet to function as God’s witness in the world.

So, in our Hebrew Bible reading today, Elisha is able to provide food for hungry people when there clearly isn’t enough. It is a very different story, yet the miraculous part where too little food is somehow still enough, is still there. This one starts with a man bringing his tithe to the prophet. The Torah has very specific instructions about how to live well in community, and one piece of that is that the first fruits of a harvest be given away. Sometimes they’re given to the priests so that the priests who are landless in service to God have food. Sometimes they’re blessed to be used for a feast or festival where all the members of the community get to eat together. That method also ensures that those who are food insecure have access to food.

Probably most people were not bringing their first fruits to to Elisha, because his role was as a prophet and not as a priest. But this man sees holiness in Elisha, and brings his offering out of faithfulness to God, to Elisha to be used. Now, Elisha has surrounded himself with a large number of followers. That was very different from how his mentor Elijah worked. Mentor Elijah was a loner, who on good days allowed mentee Elisha to follow him. Elisha was better at working in community. However, both were really unpopular with the leadership of the day, and had trouble accessing sufficient resources on their own, without Divine help.

Elisha uses the gift from the man’s first fruits to feed those who surrounded him in HIS community. It shouldn’t have been enough to feed the people, and yet it was more than enough. The Bible is indicating that God is with Elisha. It is also telling us that what seems like a small and insufficient gift can be useful and abundant when given to God.

God was with Elijah, God was with Elisha, and God was with Jesus. This story, this miraculous feeding a large crowd that sounds a lot like Elisha feeding, is the ONLY miracle found in all 4 Gospels. Clearly the early Christian community thought this story was central to understanding Jesus.

In the second story, Elisha’s servant names that what was given to Elisha wasn’t enough to feed the large crowd. In John, the disciples who are expected to understand what God and Jesus are up to, articulate similar concerns. The crowd is BIG, and they’re all hungry, and they don’t have the resources to feed them.

But one person, in this case one small boy, offers his meager resources. 5 barley loaves and 2 dried fish, the traveling food of the poor in that day, were likely all he had with them. He offered them to God and to God’s holy one, a lot like the man who had offered his first fruits to God’s prophet Elisha. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close to enough.

But the Bible is indicating that God is with Jesus. It is also telling us that what seems like a small and insufficient gift can be quite useful and abundant when given to God.

There is another unique detail in John. The story opens telling us that Jesus “went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee which is also called the Sea of Tiberias.” (NRSV, v. 1). It isn’t called that. The Sea of Galilee just isn’t called the Sea of Tiberias. BUT, it is super meaningful to mention it that way. In 20 CE, the tetrarch of Galilee, Herod Antipas, created a new capital for himself in Galilee, on the Sea of Galilee, and named it for the Roman Empiror Tiberius. The goals seemed to be twofold: one to flatter the Roman Emperor Tiberius directly; another to commercialize the fishing on the sea, then building up the economy, and proving his powers as an good leader. Both of the goals were really aimed at trying to get access to lead more of the Roman Empire, as his father had.

Tiberias was a noticeably Roman city, one that offended the Jews as it was built on burial grounds, and represented the ways that the Empire sought to exploit the people for economic gain. To call the Sea of Galilee the Sea of Tiberias is to remind those experiencing the story of the social and political location of Jesus’ ministry. In fact, his miracle itself undermined the empire because it fed the hungry masses whose hunger the empire sought to exploit. The Sea of Galilee had been the primary food source for the people, but had become a source of income for the Empire, at the expense of the people’s primary food source.

On the shores of the Sea, Jesus fed the hungry and hurting people, both with food and with hope.

The initiating act of the miracle was the child who offered his meager bread and two small dried fish.

Those three characters shared what they had, despite it not being enough: that child, that man bringing his first fruits to a politically unpopular prophet, and that widow who shared her last meal. None of them did anything all that unusual. People share sometimes. People offer tithes. Desperate people make do and share what isn’t even enough for them over and over and over again. Many people have told me stories of their own parents limiting their food intake so they could eat enough as children. This happens.

But the Bible says that even little gifts can create significant good. That narrative is feeling really big right now, because the problems of the world feel really big right now, they feel like a hungry and frightened mass of 5000 people looking expectantly for food! Sometimes, for me, what I have to offer feels really small sometimes – a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, a voice to raise in prayer, a presence in the midst of the struggle that stays calm and peaceful. They’re SMALL when the problems are BIG. But the Bible says that God can do a LOT with what we give to God, even when it appears that what we have to offer is a lot less than what is needed to solve the problem.

God isn’t asking us to give out of resources we lack! God asks for what we can give, no matter how small, and then God works with it.

In the midst of the really hard times of life, the things that pick us up aren’t usually big miracles. They’re still the small stuff! They’re the little indications that someone cares and we aren’t alone in the struggle. I encourage you to think about the hard times in your life and what picked you up. Was it big things? Or was it things so small that the person who offered it might not even remember?

The small stuff matters. A little tiny loaf of bread. A regular tithe offering. The simple supper of a poor child. Each became a means of grace in the world. God can work with what we have to give.

So, let us go from this place, offer what we have, and watch to see how God multiplies our gifts into signs of hope and grace. God is able, and so are we. 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

Sermons

“Finding Peace” based on Psalm 4 and Luke 24:36b-48

April 15, 2018February 15, 2020
by Sara Baron

It seems possible to me that most of us missed a lot of what was going on the Psalm in the first reading, and all the scholars I’ve read have offered a lot of insight into it that I didn’t get on my own. So I’m going to try ruining the beautiful poetry for the sake of clarity. (This is my gift to the world, I make things clear but less pretty.):

God, answer me! I trust you will. After all, you are excellent.
Also, you have before.
When I was feeling crowded in with no space to move,
you made abundant space for me.
Because of that experience, I trust to ask you again:
have mercy on me and hear me.
I need you, because PEOPLE are not excellent right now.
People are after me, trying to take away my reputation, my name, my family honor.
They want to shame me!

O people, how long will you lie about me?
You should remember that I follow God’s ways,
and God listens when I pray.

Instead of lying and shaming others when you are hurting,
spend some time in quiet, in contemplation, in prayer.
God will listen to you, too. You aren’t alone.
Trust in God.

Of course, some say that there is no goodness in the world, no God-ness.
But I remember the blessing,
The LORD bless you and keep you;
the LORD make God’s face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you;
the LORD lift up God’s countenance upon you, and give you peace.

You, O God have given me so much more joy
than those who have food and drink in abundance.
Because of my connection to you,
I will sleep peacefully tonight, despite what the people say about me.
You, O God lead me to sanctuaries for rest and recovery.
That’s the experience I get, even from this brief prayer.

The psalmist finds ways through fear through remembering God’s spaciousness, through finding empathy for her accusers, and through remembering God’s trustworthiness. I love that in the Psalm we are taken along for the ride with her – entering into her hope for what God can offer, entering into her dismay at the struggles she is finding in life, entering into the wisdom she finds within, and then entering with her into the rest she finds in remembering that God is with her and she’s OK.

(Btw, I have no way to know the Psalmist’s gender. One of the scholars I read this week simply used the feminine for the author, and I thought it was a good exercise to derive the fullness of humanity from the female pronoun, so I followed that person’s lead.)

It has been said that the Psalms are God’s favorite book of the Bible, because the rest of the Bible is primarily concerned with what God is saying to the people, but the Psalms are about what people are saying to God. The full range of human emotion is found in them, often to rather uncomfortable degrees. In this Psalm we hear the anxiety of being hemmed in, particularly by people who want to harm us. We also hear the witness of a person who has known God’s loving grace. She informs those who seem ready to harm her of the goodness she’s found in her relationship with God, and it almost seems that in reminding them, she is reminded that God is the one whose steadfast love endures forever.

The Psalms always remind me that emotions are OK, and that STRONG emotions are OK, that God is big enough to deal with us as we are, be that anxious, sad, angry, or even numb. In this case, I think the Psalmist was most of all afraid, and that is very similar to how the disciples are presented as feeling in the Luke reading today. Luke says they were, “startled and terrified” when Jesus appeared and spoke words of comfort and assurance to them. This seems reasonable to me! Once Jesus had assured the disciples, and their fear had lessened, he took the time to teach them. It seems like there is a good life lesson in that. Frightened people aren’t able to absorb new information, so taking the time to connect with someone and calm their fears seems imperative to any form of teaching!

Then he gives them a new undertaking. Those who had been his students and companions were now to be “witnesses.” They had seen his ministry, and his life, death, and resurrection, and they were supposed to start talking about it. The final command to the disciples in the Luke version we read today that says, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning in Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.” I think the awesome part here is that it is “to be proclaimed in his name to ALL NATIONS.”

Jesus spend his ministry teaching repentance and forgiveness of sins. That was the core of his message, as a means to open people to the kindom of God. It is always important to consider what sins he was talking about though! Life wasn’t what God had planned for the people, the vision of the Torah wasn’t the way of life anymore. The communities weren’t caring for each other, and the vulnerable were slipping through the cracks. Life wasn’t focused on God, or on God’s ways of justice. To say that the witnesses were to take the message to all the world is to say that the whole world could be transformed from violence to nonviolence; from fear to hope; from selfish ambition to communal joy! The WHOLE WORLD could be healed and become the kindom.

But first, he had to deal with their fears. They needed to be seeped in hope to offer this message! Whether it be like Jesus working patiently with the disciples, or like the Psalmist working through her own fear by remembering God and instructing others in God’s grace, there are ways through fear to hope. May we find them when we need them. 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

Sermons

“Distributive Justice”based on Genesis 1:1-2:4a

February 18, 2018February 15, 2020
by Sara Baron

In the early days of Christianity, new Christians were baptized on Easter and spend 40 days in preparation for that baptism, much like Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness preparing for his ministry after his baptism. (I don’t know why the order was reversed.) This included time included fasting, prayer, and teaching.

Eventually, the 40 days before Easter became a time that baptized Christians used to reconsider their lives, their faith, and the next sets of commitments they were ready to make to make space for God to sanctify their lives. The math oriented among us may have noticed that there are more than 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday, our tradition says that Lent does not include Sundays because all Sundays are celebrations of the resurrection, and as such are not fasting days but feasting days! Lent is 40 days, not including Sundays.

My intention during this Lent is to reconnect to those roots, in a different way. John Dominic Crossan theorizes that the primary difference between the way of Jesus and the ways of human empires is how they hold power. Namely, Jesus lived and taught nonviolent resistance, whereas human empires inherently engage in violence. If I were to come down to one difference between the ways of God and the ways of the world, I’d have to agree: God is nonviolent and the world is violent.

I’d give you examples, but I doubt a single one of you needs me to. 🙁

Nonviolence is way to create a world of justice, a world without anyone dominating anyone else, a world of fair distribution of good, a world where the people can thrive. You’ve likely noticed that this isn’t the world we live in right now. It wasn’t the world Jesus lived in either. Nor was it the world that the ancient Jews occupied.

Last week in my sermon I mentioned domination systems, “Domination systems are humanly contrived legal, social, political, economic, military, and religious systems deliberately designed and built to create and maintain power by a few at the top over the many below them. They exist to perpetuate the power of dominators over those dominated, explain why it is necessary, and to transfer wealth from workers up the ladder to the few obscenely wealthy persons at the top of the pyramid. Domination systems of various types have existed since the beginning of recorded history.”^¹ I proposed that one of God’s primary aims is to disrupt systems of domination and oppression by building cooperation and connection, to bring justice and wholeness.

This Lent, I intend to focus on God’s vision for justice, how we see it in the Bible, how we can feel its urgings now, and what that means for our lives. In other words, I think God wants wholeness for all people, and the only way to get that is by creating a just world. This seems to me to be one of the strongest overarching themes of the Bible, and I’ve chosen 5 passages as examples of how it plays out.

As you probably noticed, the first passage starts at the beginning of the Bible. Our Biblical scholars think that this story is the creation of the Southern priests of Judah. The priests were not intending to claim that they knew how the world had really started, but they were intending to make meaning out of existence itself. (Since the priests were likely also some of the most significant editors of Genesis, if they really thought they had “the answer” to creation, then they wouldn’t have included another answer immediately after this one.)

John Dominic Crossan presented some great ideas about this text during is Carl Lecture this fall. Thanks be to God, they are also written down in the 2^nd chapter of his book God and Empire, which has made it much easier for me to recreate his brilliance for you. Dom, as he invited us to call him, points out that the priests present God as first “building a house” and then “furnishing it.” Each of these takes 4 steps, so you might expect creation to take 8 days, or 9 to add a Sabbath. Yet, there are double actions taken on days 3 and 6 to force it all to fit into 6 days of action and a 7 day week. He thinks the 8 parts fitting into 6 days is actually intentional, it draws our attention to the work done to make it fit, it emphasizes getting to 7 at the right time! Dom concludes that this is intended to mean, “in creating the universe, not even God could skip the Sabbath. Put another way: in creating the universe, God crowned it with the Sabbath.”^²

He also notices that in day 7 there is a repetition of “rested from all the work he had done”, namely, “And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.” (Genesis 2:2-3) Dom explains the repetition this way, “It is not humanity on the sixth day, but the Sabbath on the seventh day that is the climax of creation. And therefore our ‘dominion’ over the world is not ownership but stewardship under the God of the Sabbath.”^³ Those priests really were thinking theologically (like they do). This creation story tells us again and again that God sees creation as good and tells us that God is the God of the Sabbath.

Now, the sabbath is one of the ten commandments, likely the one we take the least seriously. Perhaps because our understanding of it has been limited! I want you hear how it is put in Exodus, where the commandment reflects back to this creation story:

Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. For six days you shall labour and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it. (Exodus 20:8-11)

Dom says, “The Sabbath Day was not rest for worship but rest as worship. It was a day of equal rest for all – animals, slaves, children, and adults – a pause that reduced all to equality both symbolically and regularly.”^⁴ In some texts it even says that the Israelite males should rest SO THAT their slaves and animals could also rest. (Exodus 23:12 and Deut 5:14). This wasn’t something I’d noticed before Dom pointed it out, but he adds even more meaning into this, it gets even juicier! Dom suggests that because the Sabbath was the crown of creation, and one of the first things we know about God is that God is the God of the Sabbath AND because the Sabbath is about equal rest for everyone THEN the Sabbath is about DISTRIBUTIVE JUSTICE of rest, AND our God is a God who built distributive justice into the fabric of creation.

This creation story then suggests that everyone, all of creation, has a right to rest built into the rhythm of time itself! Furthermore, time itself beats to the rhythm of justice, with the rest as the centerpiece of time keeping. Dom concludes that the sabbath tradition itself is a distributive justice, one that starts by distributing rest equally, and then seeks to distribute food, education, and health. The desire for these to be well distributed is inherent in both God and in creation.

However, distributive justice is not inherent in most human societies. Domination systems are the opposite of this proposed rhythm of creation. Domination systems aren’t about rest OR justice. Sabbath tells us of God’s own need for rest that makes space for our shared rest. Sabbath is a gift, and one we are to share.

Today, we desperately need Sabbath. We need time away from the 24 hour news cycle. We need time for in person relationships. We need time for play! We need time to let our attention wander and not need to pull it back. We need time without pressure to be producers or consumers. We need a break from our “normal” to be more fully humanized. We need time for prayer and contemplation, for laughter and celebration. We, like all other humans in all other times, need rest.

But God doesn’t force us to take it, we have to let ourselves have it. Our tradition says that while God does set things up to be good for us, God does not force us nor dominate us to make us do it. Domination systems are bad for humanity, but God doesn’t force us out of them either. God works against them, and God’s people are asked to work against them, but no one is forced to do so.

Furthermore, the work against them can only be nonviolent and in love, or else we become a part of what we’re trying to dismantle.

This Lent, I invite you to Sabbath. Find rest, hold it dearly, and do whatever you can to enable rest for others as well. Remember the rhythm of creation, take note of the God of Sabbath, sense the yearning for justice in the world – and rest. It is the first step towards justice. It is an imperative step towards living nonviolently, as it is living nonviolently with ourselves, and thus modeling it for others. Thanks be to God for being the God of Sabbath. Amen

1Jim Jordal, “What is a Domination System” found on 2/10/2017 athttp://www.windsofjustice.org/index2.php?option=com_content&do_pdf=1&id=356 written on March 14, 2013.

2John Dominic Crossan God and Empire: Jesus Against Rome, Then and Now (USA: HarperOne, 2007), page 51

3Crossan, 51.

4Crossan, 54.

–

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