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  • May 5, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HALLELUJAH.

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

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

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

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

And, I thought it would feel better.

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

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

And now we have to heal.

Darn it.

IT IS FINISHED, HALLELUJAH.

And.

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

52 years.

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

You already knew that too.

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

From Seneca Falls,

from Selma to Stonewall

we’ve come a long way,

we’ve come a long way.

From Seneca Falls,

from Selma to Stonewall

we’ve come a long way,

but the journey isn’t over.

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

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

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

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  • April 28, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

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

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

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

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

God seems particularly committed to mixed multitudes.

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

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

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

Right?

It’s OK, I know I’m right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1We Cry Justice #25, page 110.

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

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  • April 14, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“The Tower” based on Psalm 148 and John 20:1-28

You know that saying about how people need to hear things seven times before it sinks in? This is a sermon that I’ve preached before – kinda. I’ve preached the main idea of it, but it is a BIG HUGE IDEA, and it turns out that one time through it didn’t manage to get it to sink in – not even for the nerdiest among you. Truthfully, I’m still working on letting it sink in for ME. So, I’m going to go over the idea of “Mary the Tower” again. It fits: our scripture, the We Cry Justice Reading today, our values as a church, the needs we have to see hope in the world, and the need for changes within the church at large.

Recent scholarship reveals that there is an textual error in John 11 and 12. John 11 is the story of the rising of Lazarus, which we have known in in our Bibles as the story of the sisters Mary and Martha and their grief over their brother Lazarus. The scholarship shows that there is not, in fact, a Martha. Someone changed the text.1

The relevant parts are now known to read:

Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and HIS sister MARY. Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, ‘Lord, he whom you love is ill.’ But when Jesus heard it, he said, ‘This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.’ Accordingly, though Jesus loved MARY and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.

… then Jesus debates with his disciples and finally shows up…

When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to MARY console HER about HER brother. When MARY heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him. MARY said to Jesus, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Your brother will rise again.’ MARY said to him, ‘I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.’ Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?’ She said to him, ‘Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’

… Jesus raises Lazarus, and the plot to kill Jesus strengthens…

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. MARY served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, ‘Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.’

Great, now you’ve heard the story as it is believed to have been written. All Mary. One sister of Lazarus, who is the one who claims Jesus as Messiah. She is the first one to say so in John. And then she prepares him for his burial.

Now, it is NOT clear for sure if Mary of John 11 and 12 is Mary Magdalene of John 20, but it has long been assumed to be, especially now that scholarship has figured out something about the name Mary Magdalene. Namely, it isn’t that Mary is from Magdala, because such a place doesn’t exist. Instead, Magdalene is a title. Magdala means “tower” in Araemic. So, kinda like Peter becomes “the rock” after he says Jesus is the Messiah in the other gospels, Mary gets a title change after she says he is the Messiah in John. She becomes Mary the Tower. Mary Magdalene. Mary the Tower.

So then, Mary the TOWER is back again in John 20. Now you may remember that the Gospel of John is associated with the disciple John, who is throughout the book of John called “the beloved disciple.” And in John there is some tension between John and Peter that sounds a whole lot like later communities of faith arguing over who was better. This culminates in the Easter morning footrace between them, the one John wins but shows that Peter is braver? Yes, that ridiculous footrace.

But, the funny thing is, that given the rest of this information it seems like John and Peter were racing for second. Mary already say that Jesus was the Messiah. She saw him as he was. Mary already saw the stone had been removed. She saw. And the first appearance of the post-resurrection Christ was to Mary. She saw. She who came to know his resurrection because she heard her name on his lips. She who then was the first to tell the disciples, “I have seen the Lord.” She saw.

ONE person. The one who saw him raise Lazarus and saw him raised. The witness to the power of God over even death itself.

And, friends, a WOMAN.

We are not simply the recipients of tradition built on the power of men, even if this information has been obscured since 200 CE. Peter and Mary. Mary and Peter. The tower and the rock.

The stories of women, which are the stories of Easter, are certainly worth hearing. They are the stories we struggle to make sense of because there is too much hope and goodness in them. We’re tempted to turn away.

But, Mary the Tower keeps us both grounded and able to see beyond the walls that hold us in. The church founded by Jesus is a radical one where the least, the last, and the lost – the orphans, the widows, and the children have always been center stage. We know because it was the women who are rarely believed – the women who are often DENIGRATED AND DISMISSED (Mary Magdalene prostitution rumors anyone?) who are the ones to tell us the key stories.

Mary the Tower sent us, and she said there is hope, there is life, there is a God who cares. We, too, can see. Thanks be to God. Amen

1The story of how this was found is AMAZING, came to my attention via Diana Bulter Bass’s Wilde Goose Festival Sermon which can be downloaded by clicking here: https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://dianabutlerbass.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Mary-the-Tower.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwjGjMXKv7qFAxU6EFkFHcQdDb8QFnoECBUQAQ&usg=AOvVaw2qAIrS7kX87OxdrYJ1EDJB or watched here: https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://dianabutlerbass.substack.com/p/all-the-marys&ved=2ahUKEwjGjMXKv7qFAxU6EFkFHcQdDb8QFnoECAcQAQ&usg=AOvVaw24F4hwzT5F53i7I96ru9gi

April 14, 2024

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

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  • March 31, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Resurrecting Joy” based on Isaiah 41:4b-10 and Luke 24:1-11

I have a question I’d like you to contemplate: Which do you like more – daffodils or tulips?

OK, assuming you are now ready – daffodil fans can you raise hands and cheer? Tulips fans?

Believe it or not, I’m going to take this a step further. (I know, I know, not the Easter sermon you were expecting.) Tulip fans – can you shout out things you love about them? Daffodil fans?

Thank you.

Amen

😉

Just kidding. This Lent we’ve done a Bible Study on the Resurrection Narratives. We read the stories of Easter from each of the Gospels, and asked a few questions about each one:

  • What does resurrection seem to mean here?
  • Why describe it this way?
  • How does it feel?
  • How does this connect today?

As we read and discussed, we started to notice something about the empty tomb stories: they feel incomplete. The empty tomb isn’t the POINT, instead it feels like the introduction to the point. The tomb is empty… ok. That could mean a lot of things, including grave robbers. But each of the gospels ends the story of the empty tomb with something to nudge us towards its meaning. Luke ends with the rest of the disciples believing the empty tomb to be an “idle tale” but Peter going to see for himself and being amazed. In Luke in particular, the empty tomb is the start of sharing stories of the post-resurrection Jesus experiences. Those experiences are the ways the followers of Jesus end up claiming that he is alive, and the work of God in him isn’t completed yet. It isn’t, actually, the women sharing the story (though maybe it should be) or the dazzling clothes of the angels (black? white?). It isn’t the early dawn on the first day of the week or the prepared spices. It isn’t even the angels saying “he is not here.”

The empty tomb points to the continued life of Jesus, but it is in fact JUST an empty tomb. The early followers of Jesus were transformed in those early days by whatever experiences they had that led them to call it resurrection, and eventually they came to understand THEMSELVES to be the shared Body of Christ, and understanding that has been passed down the ages, right to this moment, when we are together the Body of Christ alive and doing ministry in the world. The empty tomb points to LIFE.

I’m going to take this even a step further. When we say “Christ is alive” I believe that it implies “and calls us to life abundant.” Life itself, just life, isn’t the point. Especially today when medical science allows life to continue far after abundant life has ended, it is easy to see that this isn’t just about being alive, but about being ALIVE – about life abundant.

Christ is alive and calls us to abundant life.

Christ is alive and calls us to full, beautiful, connected, joyful LIFE.

But, it is possible that for some of us, that sounds… I don’t know, really hard?

Am I off? I don’t think I’m off. Our lives are fulled with innumerable stressors, real ones. We’ve learned that about half of our society doesn’t have enough money to “make it,” and another big chunk of society lives in fear of falling under that line. So monetary stress is real, regular, and abundant. Job stress. Health concerns. Traumatic experiences of the past. Worries about our loved ones. And then, heavens, all the things in the news. ALLLLLLLL THE THINGS. There is this constant stream of information about things we should worry about, or fix, or grief, or understand, or… care about.

And the stressors and the worries and the news add up, day after day, after day, after day and maybe full, beautiful, connected, joyful LIFE feels kinda unlikely? I read an article1 recently that discussed the ways life has improved over the past four years, and that somehow people don’t seem to have NOTICED. The authors, psychiatrists, suggested that the malaise of the American public today is due to unprocessed pandemic grief, “But the country has not come together to sufficiently acknowledge the tragedy it endured. As clinical psychiatrists, we see the effects of such emotional turmoil every day, and we know that when it’s not properly processed, it can result in a general sense of unhappiness and anger—exactly the negative emotional state that might lead a nation to misperceive its fortunes.” I know we all want to be over it, but between continued illnesses and deaths and long COVID, we aren’t. And, further, we haven’t processed it. So, there are good reasons aplenty that we aren’t all feeling like we’re all in on that full, beautiful, connected, joyful LIFE that we’re called to.

And yet, beloveds of God, we are called to full, beautiful, connected, joyful LIFE. Even now. So, how do we do it? I came across an idea that I believe MATTERS in reading I thought I was doing for the sake of becoming a better premarital counselor. I was sitting there reading Emily Nagoski’s book “Come Together: The Science (and Art) of Creating Lasting Sexual Connections” (highly recommend) and in the final chapter her teaching about sexuality and sensuality became even more spiritual. At one point she says, “Our only certainty is that one day, we won’t get any more days.”2 Which is pretty much the whole point of Ash Wednesday and part of what we’re meant to hold as we travel through Lent AND Holy Week.

She explains in her book the phenomenon of “savoring” which she defines as people’s “capacity to attend to, appreciate, and enhance positive feelings in their lives.”3 She says that there is a Savoring Checklist, and it includes: sharing joy with others – talking about what is happening and why it is good; reminding ourselves that time is passing as a way to cherish a moment before it passes away, which could sound like saying to yourself, ‘”Time is short and I choose to do this with my time.”; expressing the joy in our bodies – laughing, and jumping, clapping and whooping; and finally slowing down to pay attention to the experience of joy or pleasure itself – in many of the ways we’ve been taught through mindfulness.4 She goes on to say that every time we chose pleasure and joy we enable ourselves to pick it again in the future and remember the pleasure and joy of the past. Then she says, “when we savor pleasure and thus highlight it in our memory, we can remember our lives as more worth living. We look back on our day, our year, even our entire lifetime, and we see less of the struggle and more of the countless moments of pleasure.”5 The memories “glitter across our memory, brighter and more numerous, when we take time to savor them.”6

OK, so the gist: to live life abundantly there is a trick: take the wonderful moments and savor them – share the joy by talking with others, notice the wonder while it happens, and let your body be full of joy. When you do that – when you savor this wonderful life that God gave you, it will bring your attention to the good, the wonderful, the pleasurable, the joy-filled parts of life, both now and over all.

It will, it turns out, move us to full, beautiful, connected, joyful LIFE. Just, enjoy the good stuff!! Savor it, let yourself be delighted when you are. And of course, this can be some of the big stuff of life. Every year I savor singing Easter hymns with brass accompaniment, and when I think back to my wedding I remember a moment in the midst of the worship service when I wished it could last forever because it was such a delight. But pleasure and joy are easily abundant everywhere too. Food tastes good (if you are lucky.) Stretching your body feels good. Laying down to rest is a wonder. Your favorite song is worthy of savoring.

And, to bring it full circle, there are pretty flowers in the world. Ones that you have now brought attention to, embodied the joy of, talked about the joy of, and … savored. Daffodils and tulips, they’re pretty amazing, huh? And they are just one of the many wonders around us, gifts given by God and others to calls us to full, beautiful, connected, joyful LIFE.

Thanks be to God!

Amen

1https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2024/03/covid-grief-trauma-memory-biden-trump/677828/

2Emily Nagoski, Come Together: The Science (and Art) of Creating Lasting Sexual Connections (New York: Ballantine Books, 2024), 292.

3Nagoski, 270.

4Nagoski, 272.

5Nagoski 273.

6Nagoski, 273.

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 31, 2024

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  • March 24, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Hosanna” based on Psalm 118:1-4, 19-24 and Matthew 21:1-11

Within Christianity, we use “Hosanna” to express joy, and praise, and adoration. Just one little issue with that – the actual meaning of the word. Hosanna is a Hebrew word meaning “Save us, we pray!” The people around Jesus weren’t shouting “Great is God” or “Jesus is good!” or “YAY, Jesus, YAY God!” Instead, they were shouting, “God, save us from our oppressor” which was clearly the Roman Empire, who – let’s be honest – didn’t appreciate that. “God, help us, the enemy is bigger than we can take on ourselves.” “God, we’re in over our heads, help us out here!”

And, of course, they were shouting, “Save us, we pray” during a PASSOVER celebration, when Passover celebrates God’s actions in saving the people from oppression in Egypt, which made the Roman Empire’s representatives a “little bit” antsy.

The Roman Empire’s representative Pontius Pilate was already coming to the city, like he did every year at Passover, with soldiers and fanfare meant to keep the Jewish people in check. The Roman Empire saw QUITE CLEARLY that getting a whole bunch of people together in the city to celebrate God’s acts of freeing them from oppression was a tinderbox for revolt, and they sought to tamp it down with displays of power and reminders of their violent capacity. In fact, they came in from Pilate’s normal abode on the Mediterranean – so from the West. With gleaming horses, and banners with the golden Eagle of Rome, with drums and the crowds shouting “Hail Caesar, son of God; Praise be to the Savior who brought the Roman Peace; Caesar is Lord….” the Empire sought to intimidate people out of revolt.

But.

Then there was Jesus. Jesus who seems to have let the crowd claim kingship of Ancient Israel on his behalf, which sometimes feels a little bit strange but is in the story nonetheless. The Palm branches were a flag of Israel- the opposite of the Golden Eagle. The donkey was expected to be ridden by the Messiah entering the city – but also is rather opposite a gleaming horse. The soldiers accompanied Pilate – while a large crowd of people impoverished by the Empire accompanied Jesus. And Instead of “Hail Caesar” the people shouted “God Save Us (from the empire).”

The Roman Empire took this Jesus parade as a significant threat.

I believe they were meant to. The protest made the violence of the Empire stand out. They crucified Jesus with the accusation “King of the Jews” above his head, as if this was the charge against him. And, after all, they shouldn’t have killed the leader of a PEACEFUL revolt, only a violent one. But sometimes the authorities have a hard time telling the difference between violence and what scares them. (Still true today.)

Then, of course, Jesus did another PEACEFUL demonstration – this time managing to make visible the ways the Empire had put in place Temple leaders who were aligned with Empire and not God’s people. That one many of us learned as the “Cleansing of the Temple.” John Dominic Crossan reflects on the “den of robbers” the Temple is said to be saying, “Notice, by the way, that a ‘den’ is not where robbers do their robbing but where they flee for safety with the spoils they have robbed elsewhere.” (God and Empire, 133.)

Jesus made clear the city of Jerusalem was where “conservative religion and imperial oppression – had become serenely complicit.” (131) And, he dies for it. Crossan says, “He did not go to get himself killed or to get himself martyred. Mark insists that Jesus knew in very specific detail what was going to happen to him – read Mark 10:33-34, for example – but that is simply Marks’ way of insisting that all was accepted by both God and Jesus. Accepted, be it noted, but not willed, wanted, needed or demanded.” (131)

Beloveds, this Palm Sunday parade is one of the most brilliant acts of non-violent direct action I’ve ever heard of, but it is part of the story of why the Empire responded with violence. I can’t hear the Palm Sunday story without knowing that it walks us to the Good Friday Crucifixion and the Holy Saturday grief and disillusion. They’re all a part of this one story – that when you make clear the ways people are oppressing others, there is a fierce lash-back and the power of violence is immense. Thank God, that isn’t the whole story – we get to Easter next week – but it is a real story, one that we can’t dismiss.

This year, the Palm Sunday parade that walks Jesus into Jerusalem sounds terrifyingly like Nex Benedict walking into school on their last day. I can’t separate out Jesus being faithful to God despite the consequences from gender-queer and non-binary people claiming their space in the world – despite the consequences. But, friends, it is sickening.

There is a story out there, one that says people are supposed to stay in tight little conformist boxes that help others make sense of the world and, heavens, the VIOLENCE that comes out when people speak up and say, “this box doesn’t fit me.” And it can be such small stuff:

I’m a woman, but the box “quiet and gentle” doesn’t fit me

or

I’m a man, but the box “stoic” doesn’t’ fit me

or

I’m a woman, but the box “looking for a man” doesn’t’ fit me

or

I’m a man, but the box “looking for a woman” doesn’t’ fit me

or

… the box “wants to have kids” doesn’t fit me

or

… the box “monogamy” doesn’t fit me

or

… the box “woman” doesn’t fit me

or

… the box “man” doesn’t fit me

or

… the box “gendered” doesn’t fit me.

And, I mean, you all know this but… WHO CARES? They’re all just silly little made up boxes that no one should be forced into and everyone should have the space to occupy, or adapt or not occupy as they see fit? Sure, some people want the world to be black and white without shades of gray – that everyone is cis-gendered, straight, sexual, and single raced 😉 But, too bad because that’s just not true.

And yet, the violence that comes when people try to force others back into the boxes they think they should live in – it reminds me of the violence of empire. There seem to be gleaming horses, loud drums, and shiny swords all over the place. And, worse, it isn’t just the external violence that attacks people – the very people who are brave enough to leave their ill-fitting boxes behind end up internalizing the violence. They’re courageous, they’re clear, they know who they are and they won’t go back to pretending to be otherwise – but that violence is so darn insidious, and it gets inside them. Those silly stories about how we’re supposed to be are so poisonous. That human need for connection gets twisted around and turned against people. And the beautiful ones who are brave and unique and wonderful end up dead.

Jesus could have stayed out of Jerusalem, except he couldn’t.

Nex could have pretend to have their gender assigned at birth, except they couldn’t.

They couldn’t. It would have been safer, easier, …. some would say wiser. But they couldn’t.

Friends, as you know, the trans and queer communities around the country and world are aching for Nex and Nex’s family and friends. Their death has reminded people of prior losses, of other brave and beautiful souls who also internalized the violence against them. The heartbreaks are everywhere.

This holy week, we will worship through the blessings of Jesus, the death of Jesus, the heartbreak of the disciples, and land on the wondrous reality that God’s work can’t be stopped by violence or death.

But how do we make sense of Nex? And the ones before them? And the ones after them? How do face the violence of the Empire today, and the ways it gets internalized?

There aren’t easy asnwers.

We grieve.

And we share the aches with God.

And we name the problems with each other.

And we keep on learning how to undercut the broken narrative, and break open little boxes, and keep people safe when they leave them.

We aren’t going to do it fast enough – we already haven’t, but just because we can’t do it immediately doesn’t mean we can stop. Jesus showed us the power of violence to stop people, and the ways religion can become complicit with violence. And he paid for it, paid to teach us those lessons. But we have them! So, we know that God and love are more powerful than violence, and love is the way we respond. And we know that religion that oppresses isn’t religion at all, and we shout it from the rooftops.

Hosanna.

God save us.

We pray.

Amen

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

March 24, 2024

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  • March 17, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Hope for Just Justice" based on Ezekiel 22:23-29 and Deuteronomy 16:18-20

Our two scripture readings today clarify for me that I prefer to hear the dreams of God in the positive instead of the negative. Deuteronomy lays out how a just society should be ordered, in this case by clarifying what a just justice system looks like. Ezekiel points out that the justice of God has not been fulfilled and describes what things are like instead. And, boy, I like the Deuteronomy reading a lot better. But, it does seem fair to point that they’re making the same point in different ways.

The ways that the Bible, especially the Torah in the Hebrew Bible, obsesses over just justice, tends to surprise me a bit. It pushes back on some assumptions I have about how complicated the society of ancient Israel was – and makes it clear that ancient Israel was a complex and REAL human society. It wasn’t some dream state, or .. I don’t, a part of such early history that the hurts of society weren’t present yet. (My assumptions are really off and need some reflection.)

Part of the ancient Israelite narrative was that they were people who had been freed from slavery in Egypt. The scholarship I respect the most suggests that those who were actually in Egypt and freed may well have been a very small number, but their story resonated with others and was taken on as an identity narrative – first by nomadic people in the desert and later by some of the people in the land they would come to call the Promised Land and the culminating group of people who understood themselves to be ancient Israel were the people who identified with this story of God freeing them from slavery.

What feels important about that is that ancient Israel was thus a place that knew how worldly systems of domination worked. Right? Egypt was a monarchy with slavery and forced labor and money flowing from the bottom to the top. Those who were listening to God and dreaming a new society were wanting to prevent the same thing from happening again. Those same scholars also suggest that the hills of Judea were largely populated by people who had exited the early societies in both the Fertile Crescent and Egypt, which suggests they were the ones who weren’t successful in those systems, who left because they thought they could do better on their own than in a society that was pressing down on them. This may be why the “God freed us from slavery” narrative resonated so well.

The first 5 books of the Bible create shared identity and a shared dream, the idea of creating a society the way God wants it to be. We know that they were written down AFTER the destruction of the Temple in 587-586 BCE and the biases of those times impact what how things were written down, including a yearning to have listened better so as not to be in that situation. Ezekiel is a prophet OF the exile, he was called while in exile in Babylon, and spoke his prophetic words from Babylon. Which gives us the context that it is from another domination system – Babylon – that todays words came into being. (Although there were more edits later, of course.)

Anyway, Deuteronomy makes these points about what justice should look that feel so ON POINT that it is hard to remember they were written down 2.5 millennia ago. Judges need to be everywhere – an assumption there will always be disputes that need an impartial third party to help. Judges should render JUST decisions. Judges should not distort justice. Judges should not show partiality. Judges should not accept bribes ( ah. hem.) Bribes blind wisdom and prevent right judgement. Justice and only justice must be the work of those who judge – and their work is imperative to making it possible to live in the land in right relationship with God and each other.

So, apparently all groups of humans have disagreements and need trustworthy ways of finding just solutions AND being able to offer that justice to people WITHOUT BIAS based on power or wealth is one of the fundamental pieces to creating not only a functional society, but a society where people find it easiest to connect with God.

Well, Deuteronomy, no lies are found there.

Ezekiel goes a little further, condemning all the leaders for the lack of justices that the vulnerable experience: the upper class is violent towards the poor; the clergy enable the wealthy to skip the sabbath in order to seek more wealth; the officials destroy lives for their own gain; and the prophets claim it is all OK. The result, then is oppression of the poor and needy, and the immigrants being mistreated without having any capacity to seek justice.

Um. Wouldn’t it be super cool if the prophet of the exile who remembers the destruction his society and reflects on what issues might have brought down his beloved nation sounded like he was talking about a really, really different place than the one we live in??

Yep, I’d prefer for Ezekiel not to resonate and Deuteronomy to be self-evidently the way things already are.

And… here we are anyway.

I do not wish to make a comprehensive list of all the ways our justice system lacks justice, because I’m told people don’t like multi-day sermons (🤷🏻‍♀️), but one of the end results of our system is that we have 2.3 million people incarcerated in the USA, which is about 0.7% of our population. Therefore, While the United States represents about 4.2 percent of the world’s population, it houses around 20 percent of the world’s prisoners.1 And, as we know, the prison population is incredibly disproportionate by race, and those who are imprisoned are the people in the US who lack the right not to be in slavery, and many of the jails and prisons in the US are run by for-profit industries who are making money both on the labor of the inmates and on the fees they charge to offer sub-human care to the inmates.

Maybe I am more open to how Ezekiel expresses concerns than I thought I was! 😉

As is often the case, I think I’ve managed to preach us firmly into despair, and now we get to move together towards hope. Because of being part of the church, I was introduced early on to the concepts of restorative justice and how they differ from punitive justice. Even knowing this has been life-changing. Our current, imperfect, Social Principles say:

In the love of Christ, who came to save those who are lost and vulnerable, we urge the creation of a genuinely new system for the care and restoration of victims, offenders, criminal justice officials, and the community as a whole. Restorative justice grows out of biblical authority, which emphasizes a right relationship with God, self, and community. When such relationships are violated or broken through crime, opportunities are created to make things right.

Most criminal justice systems around the world are retributive. These retributive justice systems profess to hold the offender accountable to the state and use punishment as the equalizing tool for accountability. In contrast, restorative justice seeks to hold the offender accountable to the victimized person, and to the disrupted community. Through God’s transforming power, restorative justice seeks to repair the damage, right the wrong, and bring healing to all involved, including the victim, the offender, the families, and the community. The Church is transformed when it responds to the claims of discipleship by becoming an agent of healing and systemic change.

And this isn’t just TALK in the church. The United Methodist Church has standards for companies it will and will not invest in, including in our clergy pension programs, and companies that make profits from private prisons are on our DO NOT invest list. If you were wondering, this church holds the same policy. United Women in Faith have a specific focus on stopping the school to prison pipeline. The General Board of Church and Society advocates on our behalf in Washington for criminal justice reform. There is a program called “Strengthening the Black Church for the 21st Century” that aims at strengthening predominately Black congregations in mission and ministry, and one of their foci is on ending mass incarceration. More of my education on these concerns has happened here in this church, in the Intersectional Justice Book Club, and in conversations with you wise people. We also have in our midst a United Methodist Home Missioner whose job is to offer family law services to inmates in NYS prisons. Just by being part of the UMC our local church is part of changing what is into what should be. That’s a big part of why our connection matters.

I think a lot about being the tragic gap – the place where you see both how things are and how things should be and are vulnerable to the pain that results from the distance between them. I believe the tragic gap is a holy and important place to be, but NOT because we need to be left in despair. Rather because change can’t happen unless we see with clarity what is AND see with clarity what can be. Being vulnerably in the tragic gap is a way to be open to God’s creative work within us. For most of us, the work to make the justice system more just isn’t our primary work – but here is the amazing thing! By being in the church and doing our own primary work, we enable others TO DO that work. The goal of the Body of Christ is to work towards justice, but no one person is meant to do all the pieces. Thank God for all who are seeking restorative justice, criminal justice reform, working on behalf of those incarcerated, for those seeking the well-being of friends and family in prison, and thank God for those who are living in prison and finding ways to seek justice and live love despite it all.

Things aren’t as they should be, but that’s not a reason to lose hope. God and good people are working on change, and change will come. On this, and on many other ways justice is lacking. Thanks be to God. Amen

1https://bjs.ojp.gov/library/publications/prisoners-2022-statistical-tables

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 17, 2024

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  • March 10, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Hope for the Meek” based on Psalm 37:1-11 and James 5:1-6

I really love the book of James. When we worked our way through it in Bible Study years ago, I remember the shock that members of this church had that there was a book of the Bible that they could just receive without having to fight with it. That it was a book about God as we know God, and it didn’t even feel like there was a lot of contextual translating to do. Just… it was right. And that was a relief. And it is a great book.

Also, I did HEAR the passage this morning and it wasn’t particularly comfortable to sit through, particularly as a citizen of the wealthiest nation the world has ever known. And I know I am complicit.

I know I am complicit because I am a human who likes to eat food and while I do engage in some practices to make sure that the coffee we make at home results in neither deforestation of rain forests nor wage theft from growers… I don’t manage to do that with every purchase. For instance, I have no idea if the people who harvested and transported the broccoli I’m making this week are paid fairly – and in this society if I don’t know … they very well may not be.

And that’s just ONE component of life, right? The food we eat, the clothes we wear, the ways we travel, the things we purchase, the ways we deal with refuse, and if we have homes the ways we heat them, the places electricity comes from ….

I can’t keep up. And often, even if I wanted to, there aren’t good options! Or, the options that are good are so expensive that it seems like the money would be better used redistributing resources to those who are impoverished by our systems.

And, as you may already know if you’ve been listening to me preach for a while, I can then go down rabbit holes of guilt and frustration and be overwhelmed and just hang my head in shame for siding with the rich oppressors when it is SO CLEAR that the whole darn system is biased against God’s beloveds who live in poverty.

So it is kinda easy to weep and wail for how things are, even when I’m in many cases the oppressor and only sometimes the oppressed.

But then I stop, sometimes, and listen for God.

It is an occupational hazard, one that I strongly recommend to all people.

And what I hear feels like an interruption of my though process and spiraling about broccoli and solar power.

Instead, I hear a calling to a bigger picture, almost like the ways that the parables of Jesus were useful in bringing attention to the systems of oppression in his day and in breaking through the details to see the broad strokes. I hear God suggesting that I not obsess over the sourcing of broccoli, nor feel an obligation to perfect every purchase I make, and INSTEAD to focus on the big picture. Which then leads me to ask what the big picture is, and God laughs at me.

This is pretty much status quo for our relationship.

And then, suddenly, I remember what I did on Monday. On Monday I went to the Capitol with the “Invest in Our New York” campaign that was co-sponsored by many organizations – the ones I was connected to were the Labor and Religion Coalition and the New York State Poor People’s Campaign. It was a day for faith leaders to ask for a Moral New York State budget and it was a true delight to have two of this church’s laity in leadership present as well.

Anyway, we got to have conversations about what PROGRESSIVE tax laws, and how if we stop being so regressive in our tax laws we could have enough money in New York to transform the lives of the vulnerable among us. Because, remember, tax law can make a difference in HOW MANY HUMANS LIVE IN POVERTY and such important things like that, not to mention how much money is available to subsidize housing… and pretty much every other important function of government as well.

So, this week I’d bee in the Capitol advocating for

  1. A capital gains tax on income over $500,000 a year gained through investments – which is estimated to bring in $12 Billion (yes BILLION) a year.
  2. Raising corporation taxes on companies with more that $2.5 million a year in profits – which would raise $7billion annually
  3. Breaking up the income tax brackets differently, and adding a few at the top – which would raise $21 billion annually
  4. Taxing the WEALTH of billionaires – a sustainable annual income of $1.5B
  5. Creating an heir’s tax on inherited wealth over $250,000 – an annual income of $4B.

Now, you may note that these are not radical. They’re not impacting most New Yorkers. They’re asking the wealthy to pay their FAIR SHARE so that there is enough to provide resources for everyone.

This really seems like the stuff James was talking about – that when someone who has a wealth in the billions and objects to paying taxes at the same rates as those who are bringing home a paycheck makes those objections, James would respond, “weep and wail for the miseries that are coming to you.” Because objecting to taking from obscene wealth to pay for food for the hungry is INHUMANE.

God isn’t asking me to be perfect in all I do, or all I purchase. But, I did hear that God would like SIGNIFICANT systemic change, particularly changes that pick up those who have been harmed the most.

I really like these asks we made on Monday, which I interpreted to mean that they’re pipe dreams. Because normally if I like something, other people think it is radical. However, we were assured that they are likely to be in the Joint House Budget proposal. Now, I think a lot of things go into that and then a lot of things end up getting negotiated out, so I’m not holding my breath or anything but — that’s good news.

It is seriously good news that our state, which has the greatest wealth disparity in the country, because we have an unusual percentage of the super wealthy, is giving serious consideration to how we can have tax laws that work for everyone and not just for the super wealthy.

We can’t win every battle, we can’t get every good resolution passed, and we can’t spend all of our money responsibility. There will always be ways that James calls us out, AND, at the same time, there is reason to hope.

The Psalm says, “the meek shall inherit the land, and delight in abundant prosperity.” When I first read it, I wondered if this was simply a device to keep people from losing hope. I thought about how trust in God to create justice “eventually” has been a means to maintain the status quo. But then I started to wonder what it would be like to trust in this dream of God’s. Maybe I won’t ever see it, but maybe my life can be a contribution towards getting to it.

What if those who wished to do harm didn’t have the power to do so, so people didn’t get hurt? Then the ones James calls out as taking the wages of laborers..,wouldn’t? What if we could live together with security and delight? What if those who are in need didn’t have to fight to get what they deserve, but we all lived in a society with just distribution of resources and the meek people who aren’t willing to lord over anyone else – what if they also get enough and had delight and ease?

The Psalm isn’t a pipe dream, it is yet another description of the kindom of God we’re working toward. A more moral state budget isn’t a pipe dream either. As Rev. Dr. Theoharis – oh, did I mention she was also there advocating with us on Monday??- as Rev. Dr. Theoharis says, change is possible INCLUDING when people who are seen as POWERLESS work together.

I love her story of migrant laborers taking on big farming and winning.

I love that requests for a more moral budget are in consideration. I love that I got to advocate with amazing people on Monday, and be heard by some great ones too. I love having a little hope. And I LOVE LOVE LOVE the idea that the meek get the benefits without having to fight for them. That’s an image I want to savor. That in the kindom of God it isn’t your birth place, or your connections, your skills, or even your capacity to be persistent that gets you a fair shake in life – but it is your EXISTENCE. The meek. The meek shall inherit the land and delight in abundant prosperity. That’s what I’m working on, and I’m sooooo very glad to be working on it with you, beloveds of 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

March 10, 2024

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  • March 3, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I’ve never seen the POWER HANDED OVER.

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

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

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

Seriously, this gives me goosebumps.

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

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

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

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

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

March 3, 2024

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  • February 25, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

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

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

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

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

You know, stuff like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

February 25, 2024

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

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  • February 18, 2024
  • by Sara Baron

“Wailing as a Means to Hope” based on Amos 5:10-15 and Jeremiah 31:15-17

I’ve committed to a theme of hope in the midst of despair this Lent, because it is a topic I sense we all desperately need. You can be forgiven for thinking that thus far in worship readings we’ve done the despair part better than the hope part. Our “We Cry Justice” reading came from the section entitled “Struggle and Lament” and an essay entitled, “You Must Let Us Wail” and it was fabulously matched with Amos bemoaning the poor being trampled and Jeremiah offering us the famous words, “Rachel is weeping for her children.”

What excellent summaries of exactly the states of the world that result in a sense of being hopeless and overwhelmed. Dismay, lament, injustice, wailing, and despair.

Amos and Jeremiah are prophets, and that means they’re doing something different with the despair than we might expect. Truthfully, they’re USING it. They’re using it to motivate people, to create change. Amos looks around, sees the messes, points them out, and then calls people to live differently. We hear it within our passage today:

Seek good and not evil,
   that you may live;
and so the Lord, the God of hosts, will be with you,
   just as you have said.
Hate evil and love good,
   and establish justice in the gate;
it may be that the Lord, the God of hosts,
   will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph.

Those two verses show up in the midst of a looooooooong lament, but they’re also THE POINT. “Do life differently, don’t keep up this system of things being unjust.” And, indeed, Amos is lamenting the unjust ways society is siphoning wealth from the poor to the rich. Many modern prophet smake similar points in similar ways. But perhaps we’re not hearing the point within the lament – the POINT is to create change.

Jeremiah is doing a similar thing but on a larger scale. Jeremiah is the prophet of the exile: he saw where things would land if nothing changed, he saw destruction happening, he saw the depth of despair, and then afterwards he points out that not all hope is lost. His is a tough book, but the hope in it is real. We may also be trained to hear more easily, “Rachel is weeping for her children” than the lines that follow it, “They shall come back, there is hope for your future.” Jeremiah isn’t speaking an easy or light hope, he is speaking hope into the darkest of times – and that hope was just as real as his concerns about the exile had been.

In Jeremiah’s writing, despair is named, and met with hope, despite it all.

Interestingly, Stephen Pavey seems to be doing a similar thing. He is speaking clearly about the injustices of our day, but he isn’t doing it to bring hopelessness. He says, “Callie and Martin, like Amos, are speaking for God using the poetry and prophecy of lament. They are calling for justice to be worked out and lived out in order to build a different world, a beloved community.”1

There is a funny truth here: prophets don’t lament things being the way they are to induce hopelessness and lead people to shut down because they’re overwhelmed. Prophets name injustice because they believe JUSTICE is possible. Prophets name systemic greed because they believe an equitable distribution of resources is possible. Prophets name their concern about “how things are going” because they have hope it can get turned around.

Why isn’t this more obvious? Why does this seem worth mentioning, even?

I think dear ones, because we now live lives saturated in “news” that can sound a little bit like prophecy, but isn’t. Headlines lament poisoned water, but “the news” is an industry committed to turning a profit from exposing bad news. There may be plenty of people in the industry who do so hoping it will motivate change, but that isn’t the industry’s first concern. And, we’d probably be OK if there were just headlines about poisoned water. We can work on that! But there are also headlines about… wars, possible genocides, famines, coups, floods, fires, earthquakes, ELECTIONS, hospital mergers, lack of nursing home staffing, COVID learning declines, long COVID, increasing poverty rates, lack of housing for migrants, use of solitary confinement despite it being banned…

What else have you read THIS WEEK?

The news can sound like a prophet, but it isn’t one.

Because a prophet shares concerns about injustice to motivate changes towards God’s visions of justice. NOT to make money.

Now, I’m really not trying to pick on the news industry (it is having a hard enough time), nor discourage you from seeking to be informed (which sometimes can feel like a form of power in an otherwise powerless existence). Rather, I’m wanting to remind us all that a constant intake of bad news isn’t something we’re OBLIGATED to engage in, and knowing doesn’t ACTUALLY create change. Especially if we’re already overwhelmed, especially if we’re worried about our own lives of that of one of our loved ones. The world is vast and complicated and none of us are ever going to know everything, and it is definitely OK to fast from the news when it leads you to hopelessness. (Lenten Spiritual practice I’d recommend, even.)

Because the news isn’t doing the work of the prophets. It isn’t rooted in hope.

The prophets do that work and God still calls them to do it. Interestingly, the prophets sometimes get overwhelmed by despair too, but somehow they find their way through Somehow the urging of God to call for something BETTER than what is, motivates them to move beyond what’s wrong and into what could be. When we seek out information, maybe it matters a little bit why the story is being told – and why it is being listened to. None of us can respond to the hundreds of concerns we can read about every day, so it is worth paying attention to if in-taking them is live-giving or life-draining. I do not believe God needs us to know about one more justice issue we can’t tackle if knowing it drains us from hope.

There is, however, something fundamentally GOOD about injustice being named – by prophets and even by the news. The piece of hope is that people will respond “this isn’t as it should be.” Now, again, if that’s just a way to make some money, meh. But STILL, just naming that things being broken isn’t as God wants them to be MATTERS.

The act of lament is the act of seeing what is broken and wishing for it to be healed.

Sometimes, dear ones, when we feel hopeless, I think we’re really engaging in the sacred act of lament. And we need not berate ourselves for engaging in sacred actions, even if they’re hard.

What we may need to guard against though, is being so overwhelmed that we move into helplessness. And that, beloveds of God, I sometimes fear is one of the impacts of the 24 hour news cycle compounded by social media. They move us into learned helplessness. Because we hear about wars fought far away, and children being made into orphans, and we can’t actually DO anything about it – and we hear about … and we can’t do anything about it, and we hear about… and we can’t do anything about it, and we start to learn that we can’t do ANYTHING.

Which is simply not true.

We can’t create peace in the Middle East, but we can reach out to our neighbors in the Capital Region who are Muslim and Jewish and remind them with our words and actions they are seen and loved. That matters in the face of the hatred being slung around, and it matters in simply planting the seeds of peace and love in the world. We can’t eliminate hunger within the world or even our community, but we’ve learned we can serve one hot meal with a healthy dose of respect and that it can matter a whole lot. We can’t eliminate single use plastics, but we’ve learned to grocery shop with reusable bags, and carry reusable water bottles and those actions add up.

There is plenty we can do, actually, there is so much we can do we struggle to decide which ways to share our love in the world, right? GOOD!!

Dear ones, a yearning for the world to be different, a lament at how things are, a longing for more justice, even fear that things might continue without change – these are beautiful expressions of HOPE. Because something in you believes this brokenness isn’t enough, and shouldn’t be enough. It meant to motivate change.

Not despair, not being overwhelmed, not learned helplessness. Change.

Hate evil and love good,
   and establish justice in the gate.

It is possible. With God all things are possible. Love good dear ones, it isn’t time to give up yet. Amen

1 Stephen Pavey“12: You Must Let Us Wail” in We Cry Justice, ed. Liz Theoharis (Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2021) p. 57 used with permission.

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

February 18, 2024

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