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September 12, 2021
by Sara Baron

“Mutuality” based on James 2:1-10, 14-17

People often think I am a “bleeding heart liberal,” a “tree-hugging hippie,” or – to get to the point – an “everything goes progressive.” I do not deny the bleeding heart nor the tree-hugging, but actually I don’t think “everything goes.” James speaks the language of my faith, and in doing so makes clear why I find it so challenging to live out my faith the way I want to.

Both in Biblical times, and today, the culture is permeated with the premise that deference should be given to wealthy and powerful people. The work of Christians to treat everyone as beloveds of God is profoundly countercultural. James even suggests preferential treatment for the poor, although I can’t tell if this is because it is necessary to counteract the brokenness of the world, because most of the early Christians were poor, or because people living in poverty really do have a better grasp on faith. Maybe all of them.

To make his point, James sets up a believable story about two people gathering with the community of believers. One is a rich man, a senator or nobleman based on his ring, likely running for office. This rich man has some powerful quid pro quos to offer the fragile and vulnerable faith community. He could be a useful protector for them.

At the same time, another man enters the community of believers. He is poor, his clothes are old, ratty, and dirty.

The faith community responds with the world’s standards, James says. They give the rich and powerful man the best seat in the house while telling the poor man that he can either sit in a place of dishonor or stand out of the way.

James is a wisdom teacher. He speaks clearly through the ages. I can easily believe this was an actual experience in plenty of early Christian gatherings, and I know for certain it still is today. The world’s standards infiltrate the church. While Galatians 3:28 says “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” That is a RADICAL claim of equity within the Church. All of the distinctions of humanity are erased by being followers of Christ. All are one. All are equal. All are equally important.

But that is easier said that done. The unconscious bias

gets carried into the church, even when people don’t want it to. And they do great damage. James says, “Siblings, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our Lord Jesus Christ?” I always worry that when we say or hear “Lord Jesus Christ” we hear it with the hierarchy of the English Nobility, a system rife with patriarchy, sexism, and economic exploitation. Which, pretty clearly, isn’t what James is saying here. For the early Christians, calling Jesus “Lord” was the utmost subversion, because it claimed that if Jesus was Lord, Caesar was not.1

By ALL of the worldly standards, Caesar WAS Lord. He was Emperor of the largest empire known to that part of the world, he was wealthy beyond imagination, he had the power of the best armies behind him, he had systems of nobility and administration under him, he could execute as he pleased, change laws when he wished, and of course his FACE was on all the money. He had titles galore, including “Lord and God,” and those were the OFFICIAL declarations of the empire, to claim otherwise was to risk death.

In the face of that reality, the early Jesus followers chose another way. A “narrower” way, a more dangerous way, a way that subverted the understanding of power, and choose nonviolence over the power of violence. They claimed Jesus, a peasant from the backwater Galilee, a rabble rouser of the small but ancient Jewish faith, a man executed by the violent power of the Empire as a the leader of a violent rebellion (even when it wasn’t true)… they claimed JESUS as Lord.

And when JESUS is Lord like THAT, to favoritism to those who hold power and sway in the Roman Empire could reasonably make James question if they actually believe in Jesus or not. Are they following the narrow way, or are they slowing just making the way wider? Are they about the radical equality of all people in the eyes of God, or about making it easier to be a follower of Jesus? Are they overturning assumptions about who matters, or are they just replicating the ways of the world.

And, of course, the crux of this series of questions: are we?

I can see some evidence that we are committed to inverting the world’s values:

Our Community Breakfast is an abundance of good food, offered with grace and respect, that anyone would be pleased to eat. We are not only interested in feeding God’s beloveds, we are interested in feeding people AS God’s beloveds.
Both the long-running Sustain Ministry Program and Community Breakfast have welcomed and kept volunteers who are also recipients of the ministry’s gifts. This suggest to me that we have been interested in re-distributing God’s gifts of abundance RATHER THAN just in giving gifts to ease guilt or unconsciously hold power over others.
Our stewardship pledge sheets ask about all of the membership vows: prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness in order to remind us all that no one way of giving is more important than another, and that all of us are stronger in the ability to give in one way than another.
The church has long advocated for living wages, and puts its money where its mouth is, paying its own employees as it believes the world should.
Before the pandemic, some church groups offered luncheons with (nonobligatory) free will offerings, making genuine space for everyone to be fed and together regardless of income.
Many of the trips we take as a church – hiking, baseball games, canoeing and kayaking trips – are free or affordable to people across a wide income spectrum.
Our community is profoundly diverse, especially in socioeconomic status and income. Beloved members are rich, beloved members are poor, beloved members are in between.

And yet truth be told, I see evidence of the values of the world creeping in too though:

Before the pandemic, often parts of the church celebrated or connected by going out to lunch or dinner, or offering support by sending a communal gift, which assumes that everyone has the discretionary money to participate.
I sometimes hear people living in poverty referred to as “them,” such as in the context, “how can we help them?” which forgets that people living in poverty are part of us. The questions might be, “How can we ease the pain of poverty?” and “How can we transform society to end poverty?”
There is a great value on education in this community, one that isn’t always held in enough tension with the reality that in the US access to education has more to do with pre-existant privilege than intelligence.
Our primary worship style speaks to people’s heads at least as much as their hearts or souls, which historically fits the values of the upper class.
Among some of our members, there is still a sense of discomfort with the struggles of people in poverty. While discomfort is itself neutral, lack of facing it has resulted in people who live in poverty perceiving that they’re welcome to eat at our Breakfast, but not join us for Worship. The perception of a two tiered system, I fear, is not entirely incorrect.

Given these two lists, I think James still has plenty to teach us, even if we’ve been trying to learn along the way.

In order to build God’s Kindom at FUMC, it may mean we have to look deeply at our discomfort. Although discomfort is natural, a willingness to change it is sometimes harder.

To live into the values of Jesus and James requires soaking up God’s grace, and a constant awareness of the ways that the world tries to separate people into worthy and unworthy categories. To be a church that lives out the “Lordship of Jesus Christ” requires us to notice class, notice classism, and actively work to change it – in ourselves and in our community. It means that those of us who do not live in poverty need to listen to people who do live in poverty, and learn from them. Our actions to disrupt the status quo and move the world toward the kindom must be based in mutuality. We can’t serve in the name of Christ if we see those we serve as “others” rather than as a part of “us.” And we can’t claim anyone as part of “us” unless they claim “us” too.

I hope and pray that God will help us take the lessons James offers to heart. Amen

1 Marcus Borg, Jesus: The Life, Teachings, and Relevance of a Religious Revolutionary, (HarperCollins) 2015, p. 279.

September 12, 2021

Rev. Sara E. Baron

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

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August 15, 2021
by Sara Baron

“The Fabled Wisdom of Solomon” based on 1 Kings 2:10-12 and 3:3-14

(Image: Lamp of Wisdom, Waterperry Gardens, Oxfordshire, England)

What I wouldn’t give for the wisdom of Solomon right now. I’ve prayed for it already, lack of asking isn’t the issue. Life feels like a series of unanswerable questions. “Is this safe?” “Is this wise?” “Is this fair?” “Who does this exclude?” “Whose needs does this meet?” “How do I create balance?” “Whose needs do I prioritize?” “How can I find a middle way?” “How do I manage risk? As a person? As a parent? As a pastor?” “What are the risks of NOT doing the thing?” “How do they compare to the risks of DOING the thing?” “How worried should I be?” “How courageous should I be?”

I’ll stop. It’s probably unpleasant to hear already, and truthfully those are MOST of the questions, they just repeat a lot. Furthermore, these are variations on the themes of everyone’s questions, maybe with a little bit more pressure on those making decisions for others or for groups.

We’re nearing 18 months of pandemic based impossible decision making. I’m also nearing 15 months of parent based impossible decision making, which has led to SO MUCH more respect for every other human who parents or offers caregiving. (I already had respect for those things, but my respect has increased exponentially.)

I find myself thinking about presidents who wear the same thing every day, or offload trivial decisions so that they can keep their capacities for the important stuff. I remember articles about how our decision making capacities are finite, and I think about how incredibly overwhelming it has been to be in this “new world” where everything carries risk and every decision is suddenly BIGGER.

And I want to be Solomon. I want to be blessed by God to be wise. I want God to give me “a wise and discerning mind.” I want to know what to do!!!!!!

But even as I say this, I realize that I have projected onto Solomon and on to this blessing from God a supernatural sort of wisdom and discernment. I’ve read this story and assumed that Solomon always knew what to do, and was always right when he decided. But, I don’t actually BELIEVE that. That would be superhuman.

(Also, if that were true, then the kingdom of Solomon likely would have outlasted … say … Solomon because he would have been able to fix the underlying issues and pick a good successor.)

Which means that the Bible has just served as a very good inkblot test for me to realize that in the midst of incredible uncertainty, certainty would be superhuman. (Or dangerous. That’s another way this can go.) I yearn to feel good about decisions, but that’s not possible right now. I yearn to feel confident as I decide, but that isn’t possible right now either. I yearn, truthfully, to pass my authority off to someone wiser, more prepared, better read – but no one knows the struggles and the questions I face quite like I do, so there isn’t anyone to pass them to.

John Wesley’s “Three Simple Rules”: “First do no harm, then do all the good you can, and stay in love with God” have never seemed so hard to work with!

To keep the challenging more challenging, people judge each other on decisions. I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation that didn’t involve either 1. someone who had to make hard decisions struggling with what is right OR 2. someone who doesn’t have to make the decisions frustrated with those who made them. I hear clergy and bosses worrying over safety procedures, balancing risk tolerance with the will of the body with the needs of the vulnerable. And, at the same time, I hear others complaining on ALL sides.

I’m definitely not Solomon, but I want to offer to all of you some of the models and tools I bring to discernment, under the assumption that we’re all bogged down by the weight of all these decisions. Welcome to a pragmatic sermon. 😉

In terms of the pandemic itself, I’ve been really grateful for an idea I heard put into words in the NY Times in June of 2020.

Manage your exposure budget

Risk is cumulative. Going forward, you’ll need to make trade-offs, choosing activities that are most important to you (like seeing an aging parent) and skipping things that might matter less (an office going-away party). Think about managing virus risk just as you might manage a diet: If you want dessert, eat a little less for dinner.1

During a pandemic, every member of the household should manage their own exposure budget. (Think Weight Watchers points for virus risk.) You spend very few budget points for low-risk choices like a once-a-week grocery trip or exercising outdoors. You spend more budget points when you attend an indoor dinner party, get a haircut or go to the office. You blow your budget completely if you spend time in a crowd.2

This has been super helpful. I often call it the “risk budget.” We all have different risk tolerance, and we have different things we particularly value and need. I hear from many families with kids that day care or school are imperative to someone in the family’s well being, and so they do it. But then their risk budget is spent. I hear from others that going to work and being exposed to a whole lot of people is already an over extension of their risk budget, and they fear bringing something home to their kids, so they don’t do anything else.

I’m mentioning this right now, because people without kids or other unvaccinated people in their households have had an increase in risk tolerance, and aren’t always seeing how carefully others have to manage their risk budget. And, for some in our community that means not coming to worship – even outside, even masked, even distanced – because even that TINY bit of increased exposure is more than the budget can handle.

It isn’t really a FUN thing, a risk budget, but it brings a model to something otherwise incredibly overwhelming. Deciding on each individual activity separately is simply too much for any of us, so a budget gives us a guideline on how to make decisions. It also reminds us that we’re working with different budgets and different expenditures, and none of us need to judge how someone else makes their decisions.

Not quite the fabled wisdom of Solomon, I’ll grant, but a tool nonetheless.

Another simple tool is one I’ve mentioned before. “Daily examen” is a prayer process. It is quite simple. You center yourself, ask for God’s help, review the past 24 hours, identitfy when you felt most alive and connected with love, identity when you felt most disconnected from life and love, thank God for the best the worst and all that’s in-between, and either share that information with another person or write it down. It is entirely too easy to zombie our way through life, especially in the surreal pandemic times. But taking the time to be reflective helps us learn about life, ourselves, God, and what we value. It helps us learn what we need to change, and what we actually love about our lives as they are. This is the single best discernment tool I know, although it is most useful for BIG HUGE decisions that can be made over an extended period of time.

My final “simple” tool is one of those deceptive ones. It is simple, in ideas, but it is much harder in practice. It is: trust God to be working in and through you. That is, notice when something feels off-kilter in you, and trust that it is significant and matters. THIS is the most subversive thing I’m saying today. Trust the wisdom of your body as being connected to the wisdom of the Divine, and when a decision brings a dull ache to your gut or any other part of your body STOP and listen. Figure out what emotions fit into that ache. Then, figure out what needs are under that emotion. (Handy-dandy helpful pdf chart here: Feelings/Needs). We KNOW more than we think we do, and God often works with us in subtle and embodied ways. As we learn to trust ourselves, we are learning to trust God-who-is-with-us-and-for-us.

Well friends, it doesn’t feel like much, and it DEFINITELY doesn’t feel like the fabled wisdom of Solomon, but in the midst of unending difficult decisions, I hope these little tools are gifts for you. May God help us all, as we discern. Amen

1 I’m not convinced diet culture is safe nor healthy, but I left the reference in because I fear it is familiar.

2 Tara Parker-Pope “5 Rules to Live By During a Pandemic” https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/09/well/live/coronavirus-rules-pandemic-infection-prevention.html June 9, 2020.

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August 1, 2021
by Sara Baron

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

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

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

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

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

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

God provides.

Humans intercept.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

August 1, 2021

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

Pronouns: she/her/hers

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady