“Lifted Up, I Guess” based on Numbers 21:4-9 and…

March 14, 2021
by Sara Baron

I
don’t like the Numbers story, or how it portrays God. I don’t like
that John references it, and adds it to his conception of Jesus. I
gave serious thought to avoiding both of these scriptures today, but
I don’t actually believe in avoiding difficult things. (Fine, also I
didn’t have a better idea.)

Just
in case you didn’t listen to the Numbers reading, or don’t naturally
object to scriptures, let me be clear about what I dislike about it.
It says that the people got impatient with God, and God punished them
for their impatience by sending poisonous snakes to kill them, and
when the people were upset about that Moses intervened and God told
Moses to make bronze serpent and put it on a pole for the people to
look at and be healed, and they were. So…. I dislike the narrative
that God punishes, and even more so that God punishes impatiences,
and even more that God’s punishes by killing. As a bit of an aside,
it also seems distinctly unfair that there was that whole golden calf
incident where making a golden calf was BAD, but in this story making
a bronze snake is the solution. But that is relatively unimportant
in comparison to the “God killing people for getting impatient”
theme.

Ok.
Thank you for letting me get that off my chest, because now I can
approach the story from a different angle. The first piece of making
peace with this story is acknowledging that people are meaning
makers, and that means that sometimes we make meaning where it
doesn’t exist. So, if the people in the wilderness encounter
poisonous snakes, it makes plenty of sense that they’d make meaning
of out of it and claim that it is God’s punishment. People do that.

Having
said that, I think we can get more out of this story by (hesitantly)
entering into the mindset of the story than fighting with it. I
don’t actually think God punishes people by sending poisonous snakes
– or having a person lose their job – or creating hurricanes – or
creating a virus to kill millions. However, I think the “solution”
in this story is interesting part. Also, since people still
attribute struggles in their life to Divine punishment, so we don’t
have much space to stand on to judge the ancients.

From
within the story, the problem is that poisonous snakes are killing
people, and the people request Divine intervention so they can live.
Replace snakes with a virus, and we are right there with them. We’ve
prayed for God’s help on this. (Most of us think the vaccines were
God’s answer, and like many things, God’s answer came through the
hard work of people.)

The
ANSWER for “poisonous snakes are killing us” being “make a
bronze snake and put it on a pole for the people to look at” is
REALLY WEIRD. As in, if you asked me to brainstorm answers to
poisonous snake bites, I don’t think it would come up in my first
1000 options. (Ready: move camp away from the snakes, find
something to absorb the venom, look for an antidote, find ways to
pacify the snakes, figure out how to avoid the snakes, find out how
to repel the snakes.) See… none of that has gotten anywhere close
to make a bronze snake and put it on a pole.

So,
for just a moment, what if we take this story as more parable than
historical narrative? What if the SUPER WEIRD SOLUTION is something
designed to make us THINK and PONDER and consider, rather than, say,
replicate?

Then
where is the metaphor? Debie Thomas in “Journey with Jesus”
says, “In order to be saved, the people have to confront the
serpent— they have to look hard at what harms, poisons, breaks, and
kills them.”¹
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Avoidance
doesn’t solve problems. Systemic change doesn’t come without a deep
understanding of what is broken and who benefits from the breaking.
In making a replica of our problems, we may just learn how to fix
them. There is some GOOD STUFF here once the space is made for it to
speak with its own voice. Thank you metaphor and parable
perspective.

Interestingly
enough, this sort of fits the virus + vaccine issue – you don’t get
to a vaccine without looking at the virus very, very carefully. You
also don’t get immunity without some access to CREATED replications
of aspects of the virus. (Metaphors make life. Humans are meaning
makers. Did I mention that?)

OK,
having found some actually useful meaning in the Numbers passage, now
we’re tasked with connecting this with John’s take on Jesus’s death.
#buckleup

As
you might have noticed, John 3:14-5 says, “And just as Moses
lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be
lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
By “lifted up” John is talking about crucifixion, but he is
doing so in a very intentional way. Clearly, physically speaking,
crucifixion could be understood as being “lifted up” but it was
DESIGNED as a means of public shame and punishment that was so
horrible as to discourage others from engaging in anti-Empire
activities. This was capital punishment in an extra public and
grotesque form. So, calling crucifixion “lifting up” is
RECLAIMING it, denying its power to shame, and reframing it from a
faith perspective instead of a worldly one.

To
call it “lifting up” is to claim that they saw God in Jesus, and
the most extreme shame and pain and death the Empire had to offer
didn’t change that. In fact, to call it “lifting up” inverts it,
taking an experience meant to shame and suggesting it brought honor.
Calling it “lifting up” refuses the power of the Empire to make
meaning, and claims that power for the community of faith.

But
the gospel writer doesn’t even stop there! Instead John reframes the
Numbers story to make meaning out of Jesus. As the bronze snake
replica healed the people who had been poisoned and would have died,
so the crucified Jesus heals the people and offers them full and
abundant life with God. Or, as Debie Thomas puts is:

So why did Jesus die? He
died because he unflinchingly fulfilled the will of God. He
died because he exposed the ungracious sham at the heart of all human
kingdoms, holding up a mirror that shocked his contemporaries and
still shocks us at the deepest levels of our imaginations.
In other words, he unveiled the poison, he showed us the snake, he
revealed what our human kingdoms, left to themselves, will always
become unless God in God’s mercy delivers us. In the cross,
we are forced to see what our refusal to love, our indifference to
suffering, our craving for violence, our resistance to change, our
hatred of difference, our addiction to judgment, and our fear of the
Other must wreak. When the Son of Man is lifted up, we see with
chilling and desperate clarity our need for a God who will take our
most horrific instruments of death, and transform them, at great
cost, for the purposes of resurrection.²

The
death that is human violence, fear, and competition is transformed
when Jesus is “lifted up” and shows the power of compassion,
grace, hope, and collaboration. The powers that harm are subverted,
the power of love is …. lifted up. In THIS is life.

It
is so in our lives as well, may we pay attention. Amen

1 https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2944-looking-up

2Ibid.

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

March 14, 2021

Uncategorized

“Angry Jesus” based on Psalm 19 and John 2:13-22…

March 7, 2021
by Sara Baron

Growing
up, I saw a lot of images of Jesus as a clean, well groomed man of
European descent. You have probably seen these images too. His hair
is shoulder length, his mustache and beard and visible but trimmed,
his eyes are light, and the whole thing has an aura of “air
brushed” all over it. His expression is neutral, yet somehow
lightly angelic.

Without
going into the issues with presenting a Middle Eastern man as
European, or even the annoying prevalence of this presentation of
Jesus in our culture, I want to talk a little bit about the facial
expression. My first year here, I was given a image of a smiling
Jesus, and I savor it. Ludwig Fruerbach says that we humans project
what we think are the best and most important characteristics of
humans onto God. If that’s true, than a neutral expression on Jesus
suggests we think emotions are NOT holy. A smiling Jesus is a Jesus
with emotions, rather than a stoic, and I strongly prefer it.

If
you search online for images of “Angry Jesus” they mostly portray
today’s Gospel Lesson. Angry Jesus ALSO has an arm raised with a
whip of cords. For people who were raised with an un-emotive
understanding of Jesus or God as well as for people taught that
emotions are bad, today’s Gospel lesson can be rather distinctly
uncomfortable.

Jesus
gets angry. He acts out his anger. It has consequences. Other
people’s livelihoods are impacted. This is neither a neutral nor a
sugary sweet Jesus.

These
days when I hear this story, I hear it through the ears of the
trainings I’ve done on nonviolent direct action and I think how
brilliant it is! From that perspective, Jesus and his disciples
would have been working together on an action that brought people’s
attention to the issues with the Temple. I’m not exactly sure how
they would have said it, but the Temple had been the center point of
Jewish faith for nearly 1000 years, and as such it was hugely
important to Jewish people of faith. Because of that, the Roman
Empire had taken over control of it. The Empire appointed the high
priests, and the high priests were removed by the Empire at will. So
the Temple was at one and the same time the spiritual center of
Jewish life AND a system that had been appropriated for the exact
opposite of its purpose. It likely is helpful to remember that in
the Jewish faith the first 5 books of the Bible, the Torah, are
central in casting a vision of how God wants society to work. And
how God wants society to work is in a just and equitably way where
even the most vulnerable and impoverished are cared for, and no one
gets rich of of anyone else’s suffering.

Empires,
however, work the opposite way. Control is maintained with violence
or its threats, and the entire point of the system is to consolidate
wealth and power.

Now,
likely most people at Jesus’s time knew this. All of this. But,
they largely ignored it because… well… what are you gonna do?

That,
I’d guess, was the assessment of the issue. Jesus and his disciples
were looking for a way to clarify the issue, and motivate people into
different behavior. What they came up with, a disruption of the
marketplace around the Temple, is pretty brilliant. It always upsets
the status quo when business gets disrupted. (Several years ago I
participated in a Black Lives Matter protest that walked up 5^th
Ave in NYC, on a Saturday, in December. I couldn’t BELIEVE that we
were shutting down Manhattan during the Christmas Season. Clearly,
it was decided it was less problematic to give the people a voice
than to deal with the consequences of silencing the people.)

The
action, I think we can say, worked. First of all, we’re still
talking about it. Secondly, the appropriation of the Temple stopped.
While this story takes place in John chapter 2, in the Synoptics
this happens right before “Holy Week” and is one of the two most
significant actions that led to Jesus’s arrest and murder. It
clearly shook up the powers, and was experienced as a threat to their
power.

Which
I would call a nonviolent direct
action well done. And that reminds me that the consequences of
nonviolent direct action can be an increase in state sponsored
violence, at least initially.

With
that as introduction (too long?), I want to give us some space to
lean into the anger that we see in Jesus in this passage. I like to
think that he wasn’t just acting when he gathered cords into a whip
or overturned tables, it was a genuine expression of his righteous
anger with the life-affirming Jewish faith being used to destroy
life.

This
being the one year anniversary of the last time we gathered together
for worship in person (and funny enough, the last time we had an in
person charge conference!), it seems like a particularly appropriate
time to name some of the facets of this past year that can reasonably
illicit righteous anger.

The place to start seems to be
with 2.56 Million worldwide deaths, including over 518,000 in the
USA, many – if not most – of which were preventable if we had
prioritized people over profit.

Being intentionally misled by
leaders about the seriousness of this virus, about what we needed to
do to be safe, about how decisions were being made, and about who was
dying and where.

The simple fact that when it
became clear that the people most impacted by COVID were impoverished
people of color, our government immediate stopped caring as much.

That some churches and other
faith communities choose to ignore pleas by community health
professionals for safe practices and created super-spreader events,
while claiming to act in the name of God.

That decisions about when to
close and when to open were not guided by our Bishop or annual
conference leaders, but simply left up to us. (Not that I like top
down leadership either, but leadership becomes imperative when safety
is an issue.)

That when it became clear that
we needed masks the way we got them was through the works of
volunteer saints (thank you!) rather than the government we thought
was prepared to protect us.

That reopening plans have
continued to prioritize “the economy” rather than the people.
Yes, small businesses are struggling, but there are POLICIES that
could help, instead of risking the lives of the workers.

That police use of deadly force
on people of color JUST KEEPS GOING.

That the 644 billionaires in the
USA have earned $1.3 trillion dollars in the past year¹
while 1 in 6 Americans are food insecure.²

That somehow, SOMEHOW, there
still isn’t the will to create universal health care or a livable
minimum wage in our country (or at least its government), even though
we now see that we are only as healthy individually as the least
healthy among us collectively.

That all of the inequalities and
injustices of our society have been on display, and they continue to
be deadly, and there still isn’t a communal will to change.

That the things we need to do to
end this pandemic have been clear for a very long time, but between
political propaganda and the culture war and the need for clear
leadership and a priority on care for the vulnerable, it hasn’t been
done.

I
could go on. But I want to leave some for you to fill in on your
own.

There
is a lot to be righteously angry about. And today, I suggest we feel
it. Feel the anger of the last year, and all the people who have
been lost and all the opportunities that have been lost, and all the
exhaustion we’ve experienced.

Now,
I do NOT want you to let it go.

Not
what you were expecting? That’s fair. I don’t necessarily want you
to keep on being so angry that your blood pressure goes up or you
seek out comfort food, because that just does more harm. But I also
don’t want you to get angry and then “largely ignored it because…
well… what are you gonna do?”

Get
mad. Then get organized. That’s how we change the world. And if
now isn’t the time to organize, then it is the time to get informed,
and to build relationship so we can organize, have direct action, and
make change when the time is ripe. Or, perhaps, now is the time to
get centered into spiritual practice with God, so God can start
pushing and prodding on our hearts to let us know how to organize and
act first. So, I want you to keep righteous anger, and use it as
energy to do good.

Because
that’s how Jesus did it, and that’s how I think God calls us to do
it. Thanks be to God.

Amen

1 https://inequality.org/great-divide/updates-billionaire-pandemic/

2 https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/2020/business/hunger-coronavirus-economy/
To be fair, I averaged some stats.

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 7, 2021

Uncategorized

“Self-Denial and A Plague” based on Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16…

February 28, 2021
by Sara Baron

In
the book “Debt: The first 5000 Years,” David Graeber says
economic history as we know it is a falsehood. Instead, he says,
currency came into being this way: in order for empires to expand,
they needed armies at their ever expanding borders; in order to have
armies further from home there needed to be a way to feed them; in
order to convince people to feed armies, they gave the coins to the
army as pay and REQUIRED all the people have some of those coins to
give to the empire. Thus the creation of taxes, coins, expanded
military might, and markets came into being together. Furthermore,
coins made it much easier to calculate and charge interest, which
made it much easier to keep some people in poverty and make the rich
richer.

Graeber
also says that the time when “markets” were created in history
was ALSO the time that the world’s major religions were formed. (It
was a LONG era.) He proposes the religions were an oppositional
force to the value system of the markets. Instead of valuing coins,
interest, and violence, religions emphasized the inherent value of
people and our responsibility to care for each other.¹

When
I read that conception of the history of religion, I was excited and
relieved. First of all, it sounds like God. God works in contexts,
and expansive religions weren’t needed until expansive markets needed
to be countered. Smaller, tribal expressions of faith worked just
fine. It also makes sense of our Bible, which if we’re honest,
bounces back and forth between utterly radical critique of the
systems of power and empire and — well, justifying systems of power
and empire, as if there is a tug of war about the empire trying to
appropriate religion. Over all though, I found it a relieve to see
the 40,000 foot view of what we’re doing.

Both
of our passages today are about following God’s ways. In Genesis we
God hear claiming Abraham and Sarah and making plans to work with
them in the future. In Mark we hear reflections of the early church,
which was undergoing significant persecution, reflecting on the
powers of life and death.

So,
what does it mean to follow God’s ways?

This
was an open question in Genesis, and in Mark, and has been one in our
lives too.

This
is an open question in modern times too, and I hear people offer a
variety of answers. For some following God includes and is expressed
by particular clothing or diets. For some it includes and is
embodied in particular prayer types or times. For some it is
reflected in personal choices – everything from what words are
said, to abstinence from drugs or alcohol or sex – or just dancing
to what is purchased and where and why. For some this is reflected
in choices to join or be present with a faith community for worship –
or more. For some this is related to particular ways of seeing unity
with the divine. For yet others it is related to energy and effort
being used to build the kindom of God.

John
Wesley broke things into 4 categories: personal acts of holiness
(prayer, Bible Study, healthy living), communal acts of holiness
(worship, study, group decision making, sacraments), personal acts of
mercy (doing good works), and communal acts of mercy (seeking
justice.) Sometimes I hear people focus on only 1 of those 4, but
they work best as a whole.

To
break that down into really direct language – I sometimes hear
people think that speaking without swearing and abstaining from
caffeine are SUFFICIENT ways of being faithful to God. More power to
those who find spiritual power in those choices, but I don’t think
they’re sufficient in following God. Following God requires
connecting with others, as well as caring for others, not just
behaving “properly.” (Whatever that means.)

And
all of that gets us to today – to what some of my friends call
“Coronatide.” (If you don’t get it, don’t worry, it isn’t funny
enough to explain.) When reading a passage so emphatically about
self-denial as a means of following Jesus, how do we hear it TODAY?

It
seems to me that two mostly distinct forms of self-sacrifice have
been occurring over the past year:

There has been the sacrifice and
self-denial of those who have directly cared for others at risk to
themselves –which has included people who have gotten sick and
people who have died because of taking this risk.

There has also been a quieter
sacrifice and self-denial of those who have put life as they know it
aside for the well-being of others. (Masks, distancing, not doing
things they love, not being with people they love). To some degree
this sort of sacrifice comes with privilege – many would choose
this one and couldn’t. That doesn’t meant that this sacrifice has
been easy (it hasn’t), nor unimportant. These quiet sacrifices have
taken care of the whole, including those in the first group offering
care.

At
first glance, Mark’s passage seems to be about making a choice to
follow Jesus, and sticking with it. Upon close examination, the Mark
passage is more radical than it first appears. One scholar
summarizes, “The threat to punish by death is the bottom line of
the power of the state; fear of this threat keeps the dominant order
intact. By resisting this fear and pursuing the kingdom’s practice
even at the cost of death, the disciple contributes to shattering the
powers’ reign of death in history. To concede the state’s
sovereignty in death is to refuse its authority in life.”²

Religion
> market/empire indeed!

Mark
suggests here that to choose to follow Jesus is to deny and ignore
the threats of the state. It is to pick a full and abundant life,
and not fear.

Does
that feel strange right now? I don’t know if anyone feels like their
life has been full and abundant in the past year. And there has been
LOTS of fear.

Unless…

Unless
we change out we think about it. No, the past year has not been
“full and abundant,” but this past year we have picked LIFE for
ourselves and for others over and over again. We have prioritized
the full and abundant life of the COMMUNITY over ease and delight in
our own lives. We have tried to maximize the number of people who
will have long, full, healthy lives – with each and every difficult
choice we make.

And
sometimes it is a really important thing to remember that the stuff
we do – masks, and social distancing, and zoom (eh) and lack of
hugs, we do for a reason.

For
life.

For
each other.

For
Jesus.

For
the kindom.

We
have been following the way of God in new, different, and difficult
ways. We have been denying ourselves the joy of in person worship;
we have been carrying the crosses of wearing masks, forfeiting the
lives we know for … all for the sake of other people’s continued
lives.

We
have been trying to take care of all of God’s beloveds. We have been
reminded that the way to care for one is to care for the whole. It
has been hard, and it has mattered – and it still matters. While
what we’ve done has largely been quiet and seemingly small, thanks be
to God for what we’re able to do for each other!

Amen

1David
Graeber, Debt: The First 5000 Years
(Brooklyn and London: Melville House, 2011).

2Ched
Myers, Binding the Strong Man
(Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1998 and 2008, 274. He is quoting
Taylor, 1963: 247.

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 28, 2021

Uncategorized

“Rainbows and Rain” based on Genesis 9:8-17 and Mark…

February 21, 2021
by Sara Baron

When
do you look for rainbows? After it rains, right? The Genesis story
connects the rainbow with God’s promise not to flood the earth –
again. It is an oddly timed symbol for such a promise, because by
the time it stops raining and the rainbow shows up … it has stopped
raining and the fear of flooding is likely already relieved.

Or,
maybe that’s the beauty of it.

Because
during a rainstorm we can anticipate it. “When this is over, we
can look for a rainbow!” So, even during the storm, we anticipate
it’s ending and the reminder that all will be well.

Of
course, in these days of climate changed by humans, rain can be
rather scary at times. Floods come more often, and more destructive
than usual. But that actually fits. The ancient Israelites were
desert people and deserts have weird relationships with rain. That
is, they need water for life, and have less of it than most, but
because the earth is so parched most of the time, and water tends to
come in deluges rather than sprinkles, heavy rainstorms quickly lead
to flash flooding.

The
ancient Israelites may have had some of our current misgivings about
torrential rain, and this story may have been a way to center in the
midst of their fears. While it rains, you can anticipate God’s
promise. When it is pouring, you start preparing for God’s sign of
hope.

While
I believe that the rainbow became a symbol for LGBTQIA pride because
of the diversity of colors representing celebrating the diverse ways
of being, I have always appreciated this anticipatory hope aspect of
it as well. The choice of the rainbow symbol, to those aware of this
Genesis story, is a choice to say, “things aren’t good now, but
they’re gonna be.”

Or,
in the language of the African American church tradition, “God is
the one who makes a way out of no way.” (I’m so thankful for the
creation of pride flags that intentionally include people of color as
well as the trans community in the beauty of human diversity.)

Dear
ones, the rainbow feels like a good symbol in the midst of our
current “Rainstorm”, doesn’t it? Or perhaps you want to call it
a monsoon. Your choice. 😉

Which,
come to think of it, is also the Jesus narrative, and our gospel
lesson today. So much of what happens in the story assumes a greater
knowledge of the time of Mark and Jesus than we generally have, so
let me retell the story with some context put in:

“In those days, Jesus came
from Nazareth (Nowhereville) of Galilee (sketchy!) – leaving behind
his family, friends, and village – everything he knew, everything
he was. He was baptized by John – a rural Holy Man, in the River
Jordan, the traditional waters for the Ancient Jewish People.
Baptism marked Jesus as a student of John’s, it also symbolized his
choice to leave behind his society and culture and obligations, and
follow only the Divine.

As he was coming out of the
water, he had a God-experience, a rather beautiful one. It was as if
the heavens were torn open and God was more accessible, and the
Spirit came right there to be with him. Jesus heard a voice offering
a blessing, claiming him! “You are my Son, the Beloved; with
you I am well pleased.” In such a way, he who had left his kin
was adopted into God’s family.

After such a profound blessing
though, the Spirit of God send Jesus into the wilderness. Jesus did
not choose it, the wilderness is the place where it is hard to
sustain life, and he was alone, and he struggled, and he was tempted,
and he had to figure out what it would mean for his life to be a
Holy Man too. He was there for 40 days, like Moses was awaiting an
audience with God. With God’s help – again proving Jesus as God’s
kin – Jesus made it through.

When he came back out of the
wilderness, his teacher John had been arrested. He was on his own as
a Holy Man. He went back to Galilee, that suspicious place he was
from, and started speaking God’s ‘good news.’ Which didn’t sound
exactly like people expected it to. He said, ‘The time is fulfilled,
and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good
news.’”¹

That
“good news” seems to require a little bit more examination. One
scholar points out, “’Gospel’ was most commonly used in antiquity
to announce benefits to the populace.”²
Another summarizes what Jesus says with, “He boldly announces that
the reign of God – with its dreams of justice and love, equality
and abundance, wholeness and unity- is dawning.”³

Jesus
is a rainbow.

He
is a sign of hope, in the midst of the storm. He comes out of
nowhere, is claimed by God, and offers a message of hope and promise.
The world with its power hierarchies, the world that counts some
people as “disposable”, the world where economies exist to let
rich people get richer on the labor of the poor, the world that wants
to appropriate religion to support the powerful, the world that tells
the 99% to fight each other for the scraps left over after the 1%
have been fed, the world which says to take care of yourself and your
own first and let other’s fend for themselves – the WORLD’s powers
are at an end. A new reign is coming, and it will look entirely
different.

In
God’s kindom, there is no hierarchy, everyone is working toward for
the common good. In God’s kindom there are no disposable people, all
are treated as beloved children of God. In God’s kindom, there are
neither rich nor poor. Instead, each person offers their gifts and
labor for the betterment of the whole, and resources are distributed
according to need. In God’s kindom, we all treat each other as
“insiders” and work for each other’s well-being as well as our
own.

To
repent is to let go of the fear, the competitiveness, and the
judgements of the WORLD, and allow the love, the hope, and the
compassion of the kindom to take root.

This
isn’t easy. It never has been. Nor is it now. Judgements are hard
to let go of, including judgements of ourselves. They’re extra hard
in matters of life and death, like vaccines, and access to health
care, and decisions about masking and distancing and schooling and
childcare and caution vs. risk these days. Right? The issue is that
these judgments slip far too easily into shame, including self-shame
from people who have gotten COVID, which IS blaming victims.

I
don’t claim the authority to know about the best vaccine distribution
plan, but I do think it is useful to take a kindom look at our
pandemic lives. What does it look like when we look from love, hope,
and compassion?

From
that angle, I see a lot of gratitude: for the ways people have
adapted to make all of us healthier, for creativity and hard work in
trying to keep things going as they need to, for those offering care
or services even when there is risk to self involved.

I
also see more clearly the injustices of the moment: that not all
“frontline workers” have had a choice about if they want to be in
the frontlines at all, and that far too many people are forced by
economic circumstances to take risks they don’t want to take. That
people of color have been impacted in a multiplicity of ways: with
less access to adequate housing, with more people doing “essential
work”, with less access to protective gear, with higher poverty
rates that require taking greater risks, with less access to health
care, and with less responsive health care when it is accessed. (To
name a few.) Each of these systemic pieces of racism in our society
are highlighted by the higher infection rates and higher death rates
among people of color, and show us yet again the impact of disparity
on people’s very lives. Lack of equity kills, and movements from the
world-as-it-is to the World-as-God-would-have-it-be are movements
from death to life.

Looking
at the pandemic from the kindom view, mostly, I’m overwhelmed with
compassion: for the impossible decisions everyone is making to the
best of their ability; for the dehumanizing isolation so many are
living with; to the life-draining balancing acts being asked of
mothers, fathers, and caregivers. From this view, judgements
lighten, and love grows.

Finally,
the kindom view reminds us that we are no stronger than our “weakest
link.” That is, we are unable to be healthy in isolation. Until
the WORLD is vaccinated, all of us are at risk. And that’s always
been true, but now we can see it clearly.

We’re
all in this together. We’re all in this storm together (although it
impacts us differently.) And from the midst of this storm, we’re all
reminded that at the end of the storm, the rainbow comes. God
doesn’t abandon us in the storm, hope doesn’t die, the kindom is at
hand, repent and believe. Entering into the kindom’s values will
help kindom come. Remembering the rainbow helps us live through the
storm. Thanks be to God. Amen

1Summary
influenced by:

Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man
(Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1998 and 2008, ~128.

Bruce J. Malina and Richard L.
Rohrbaugh Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels
(Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003) 146-7.

Debie
Thomas, “Beasts and Angels”
https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2924-beasts-and-angels
2-14-21, accessed 2-18-21.

2Malina
and Rohrbaugh, 148.

3Myers,
91.

February 21, 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

Uncategorized

“Becoming More Human” based on Psalm 50:1-6 and Mark…

February 14, 2021
by Sara Baron

Do you listen to podcasts? I
know some of you do, and I get regular recommendations for great
ones, which means I often feel guilty for never getting to them. I
download them sometimes, with expectations of listening. However
between being a person who values the space to think that silence
gives me, loving classical music when I am in the car, and preferring
to learn by reading, I just never get around to podcasts.

This is true with one exception.
After all, I have an exercise bike that I use regularly, and I
prefer to be slightly distracted from the challenges it provides me.

Rather to my own surprise,
ride after ride, I keep on going back to “The Enneagram Journey”
hosted by Suzanne Stabile. The Enneagram is one of those means of
modeling humanity by breaking people up into different types and
explaining how the types are different. As with any other model, I
think it is useful until it isn’t, and should be held lightly as
containing truth without being definitive. So perhaps it is odd I
keep going back to this, but the host is mesmerizing. She is a
wisdom teacher, who uses the Enneagram as her model, and I like
wisdom. Maybe more so though, she is unfailingly kind and curious.
While being entirely herself, the only well-known person I can think
of to compare her to is Mr. Rogers, but she does her work for adults.
I find listening to her soothing and inspiring.

While listening to her podcast
this week, she stopped me in my tracks. I had to get out my phone
and write down this quote, WHILE ON THE BIKE. In passing, she
mentioned a suggested spiritual practice and then said, “Spiritual
meaning it will make you more human.”

I believe that. I’ve never said
it quite that way, but I believe that. Spiritual means it will make
you human. The goal isn’t to be less human, or less embodied, or
less connected, but rather to be MORE so. More human, more embodied,
more connected.

At its core, this is what
today’s Gospel lesson is about. This may not be what you see at a
first glance though. When Jesus appears in dazzling white clothing
with prophets of old and a voice coming out of a cloud, this may seem
to be about the super natural, the beyond earthly, or perhaps the
“spiritual realm,” I don’t think it is.

I think this is MOSTLY a story
about coming back down the mountain to continue doing ministry, and
that the stuff that happened on the mountain was meant to be
motivation and support for the important stuff happening back where
the people were. The top of the mountain was an experience of the
Holiness of the Divine, as well as an ah-ha moment about the
connection Jesus had to God’s work. These experiences are such
wonderful gifts when we have them – connections with God, senses of
the Holy One, ah-has about the wonder of what is.

At its best, worship can be like
a mountaintop experience, rich in sensory experience and openings to
experience the Spirit. But like the journey of the disciples in the
Gospel, the mountaintop is a temporary destination, and the purpose
of worship is to go back OUT into the world, refreshed and renewed,
filled with God’s love and ready and able to share it. Worship helps
us be more human! I think in person gatherings are even better at
this – when we can sing together and breath together, when we can
check in on each other before and after, when our emotions
intermingle, when the children lead us and open our hearts, when we
feel the base notes rumble the pews, when we can smile at each other,
and notice how someone is walking differently. Put that way, I’m
reminded of how incredibly embodied worship is, and can see clearly
how well it helps us be more human. But even this online worship,
lacking those elements, is still aimed at our humanity. The
scriptures are ways that people have made sense of their humanity for
thousands of years. The music aims to connect us with our emotions.
The lyrics of the hymns along with the words of the prayers remind us
of the universality of our humanity, and the needs and desires we
share with each other. Sermons, at their best, speak to who we are
and who we want to be, our humanity. We give, out of a sense of
gratitude for our lives, and out of a desire to bring more full
living to others. The images that the church offers each other to
intersperse our liturgy itself are visual art, means of connecting
with our humanity and with the sacredness of our earthly life. Not
to mention, we start with a breath prayer, and the fact that
breathing is proven to be one of the best access points to
spirituality really just proves everything!

I could make the same points
about prayer and spiritual practice, but I suspect that will be
overkill, so you can either trust me on it, or look at it yourself.

Spirituality is about being more
human.

Isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it
wonderful? Isn’t it counter to some other narratives we’ve heard
along the way?

The point of the
transfiguration, no matter how wonderful it was, is the going back
DOWN the mountain. The point of prayer and contemplation is to meet
God in our humanity. The point of worship is to become more human.

I’ve been slowly reading “The
Body is Not an Apology: The Radical Power of Self Love” by Sonya
Renee Taylor. (Slowly because it is radical enough to take time to
absorb.) Taylor spends a whole lot of time talking about body love,
and pointing out that when we hate our bodies – or even just things
about our bodies – we end up doing harm to other bodies. She is
articulate about the imperative work of becoming more deeply embodied
and more profoundly human as a good in and of itself AND as the only
way we can truly love other people in their humanity and their
bodies.

That seems like the completion
of Stabile’s idea. Spiritual means it will make you more human. And
being more human means you are more able to be loving to other humans
– all of whom are God’s beloveds.

So, dear ones, may we become
more spiritual, more human, more loving. 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

February 14, 2021

Uncategorized

“Sacred + Ordinary” based on Isaiah 40:21-31 and Mark…

February 7, 2021
by Sara Baron

I
can’t get past Peter’s mother-in-law. There is so much more in this
passage, and there is so much in the Isaiah passage that I want to
get to, but she won’t let me go.

For
those who don’t know I’m using the name Peter for the man in the
passage called Simon, because he has a name change later, and because
of the name change we’re more familiar with him as Peter, “the rock
on which the church is built.”

Now,
there really isn’t much of a story here. It is two verses. “Now
Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him
about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her
up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.” (NRSV Mark 1:30-31)

Yet,
somehow, the story just won’t let me go.

One
part may be obvious. I try, regularly, to let my feminist guard
down, and say, “well, those were different times” but COME ON.
She’s unnamed, which indicates Mark didn’t think she was that
important – even important WOMEN get named in the Gospels. And
after she is healed, she gets up and SERVES.

While
not entirely resolving this issue, Debie Thomas offered some helpful
insight about the word used here for “serve” in Greek. She says:

The
verb St. Mark uses to describe the mother-in-law’s service is the
same verb the gospels use to describe the angels who attend Jesus
after his forty days in the wilderness. It is the same verb Jesus
uses to describe himself when he washes his disciples’ feet: “I
am among you as one who serves.” And it is the same verb the early
church uses to commission deacons, the “servant” leaders of the
church.

What
if Simon’s mother-in-law is not an undervalued woman in a
patriarchal system, but the church’s first deacon? The first person
Jesus liberates and commissions into service for God?¹

That
helps a bit. I still don’t love that she gets healed and starts
serving, but if I’m honest, I know those people. The ones with such
profound servant hearts, that nothing short of profound illness could
keep them from offering exceptional hospitality. The ones who would
get up from a sickbed and start cooking immediately, if the
opportunity arose. And, to be honest, they’re not all women.

The
other little bit of new insight into this passage came from my
beloved commentary “The Social Science Commentary on the Synoptic
Gospels” which pointed out the obvious. Galilee in the time of
Jesus was patriarchal, and in particular that meant that when a
couple got married, the woman left her home and went to live with her
husband’s family. Which means that it is actually quite weird that
Peter’s mother-in-law lived with them. It indicates that she’d run
out of who should take care of her: her husband, her sons, her
father, her brothers. I think even her cousins would have been
responsible for her care before her son-in-law. But nevertheless,
she was there.²

Somehow,
this little story keeps getting further under my skin. Peter’s
mother-in-law was a widow without sons. She was living in the home
of some fishermen, and while there is some debate on this, I don’t
think fisherman were doing well in the socio-economic systems of the
day. They’re all in Galilee which was the backwater part of the
backwater Jewish portion of the great Roman Empire.

Peter’s
mother-in-law is yet another figure in the Gospels who would have
been ignored and counted as unimportant by society. Peter’s
mother-in-law is yet another piece of proof that the Way of Jesus
isn’t the way of the world.

I’m
still sad she’s unnamed. I’m still a little sad she jumps up to
serve them.

But
at the same time “they told Jesus about her at once.” The family
cared about her, and Jesus cared about her. Just because she was a
poor widow didn’t mean she was unloved by her own family. DUH.
Value in society really doesn’t have any relation to the value a
person has to their own people.

Many
of the most moving celebrations of life I have presided over have
been for caring mothers, many of whom never worked outside the home,
others of whom had jobs that were notably secondary to their roles as
caregivers. As far as today’s society is concerned, stay at home
mothers aren’t particularly notable. But as far as their families
are concerned, they were the center of the world.

Similarly,
most of the imperative lessons I’ve learned in life have been from
campers with Special Needs and from those living without homes. Both
are populations the world tends to overlook, yet inter-personally
people are people, with wisdom, and gifts, and love to share.

I
think, deep down, we all know that the things that make a person
MATTER in society aren’t at all related to what matters in day to day
life. And, of course, in the eyes of God, EVERYONE matters.

When
it came to Peter’s mother-in-law, they didn’t hesitate or confer
about whether or not she mattered, thank God. Because of course she
matters! Would any of us decline to ask for help for a beloved
family member? Since Jesus had JUST healed in the Synagogue, in
front of her family members, there was good data on his abilities.

I
keep thinking about how society teaches each of us our place, and
teaches us how to inhabit that place. The things that don’t REALLY
matter in life, still get under our skin. Who walks down the street
head held high? Who carefully avoids eye-contact? Whose language is
considered appropriate for a business meeting? Whose appearance is
considered appropriate? Or, even, who has a right to be angry about
how life turned out, and to take their anger into explosions of
violence on others?

We’re
well trained by society, enough so that it is notable when people
buck trends.

I’m
now at an age where most of the time people assume I’m reasonably
capable. But 10 or 15 years ago, as a young woman in ministry, that
was less true. I often got invited to sit on committees where I was
the only young woman, and often I could tell people thought I should
be grateful to be allowed to be present, and keep my mouth shut while
people who knew what they were talking about made decisions.

Thanks
be to God, I was raised in the Jesus movement, and formed in the
radical Ways of Jesus, and I assumed that if I had a place at the
table I had a responsibility to use it.

It
is clear that Jesus doesn’t give two figs about the roles that
society prescribes to us. A beloved child of God was sick, Jesus had
the capacity to heal, and he healed her. He reached out to touch
her, even though she was an unknown woman to him, even though she was
ill.

And
if this perfectly ordinary woman was seen and healed by Jesus, then
we can be assured that our perfectly ordinary lives are also seen by
Jesus, and healing energy is available to us as well.

For
me, Peter’s mother-in-law serves as a reminder of the sacredness of
the ordinary. God is in each of us, God’s value is on each of us,
and ordinary lives are saturated with the capacity to be lived with
love and to thereby change the world.

In
a culture, like many others before it, that often pushes us to think
we have to be extraordinary to matter, it is good to be reminded of
the sacredness of the ordinary. Thanks be to God. Amen

1 https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2897-a-day-in-the-life

2Bruce
J. Malina and Richard L. Rohrbaugh Social-Science Commentary on the
Synoptic Gospels (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003) “Textual
Notes: Mark 1:21-34” p. 150

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 7, 2021

Photo by Barbara Armstrong

Uncategorized

“Why do we (the church) exist?” based on Deuteronomy…

January 31, 2021
by Sara Baron

a
Sermon

by
Rev. Sara E. Baron

First
United Methodist Church of Schenectady

January
31, 2021

For much of the past year, I’ve
been in crisis mode. Crisis mode requires full attention to be on
the present, as the demands of the present are too large to allow
time to reflect on the past or plan for the future. Of course,the
physical realities of distance also make planning for the future
difficult.

While
the pandemic is still raging, and there are a sufficient number of
other crises that need attention, my capacity to stay in crisis mode
is declining. It is, after all, a really demanding state and cannot
be held onto indefinitely.

I
don’t mean I’m taking unnecessary risks with COVID safety – I still
believe that the Wesleyan rule “First, do no harm” is our
guidance in this era, and everything I do to keep myself safe also
creates more safety for our communities.

What
I do mean is that I’m ready to accept some of the gifts of this era:
of a pause on reality as we knew it, and a major transition point
from what was to what will be. In particular, I think it is a good
time for the church to consider its most basic nature.

Why
do we exist?

Should
we continue to do so?

I
hope you’ll grant me a little bit of patience now that you know where
I’m headed, because the scriptures today are incredibly useful to
answering those questions, but to hear them well requires putting
them in context.

The
gospel lesson centers on the question of authority, specifically why
Jesus acted like he had any! Wise scholars point out “Authority is
the ability, actual or assumed, to control the behavior of others.”¹
Jesus, by birth, wasn’t supposed to have authority, yet he presents
himself as having it, and using it.

Until
this point in the Gospel, Jesus has been out in the wilderness, and
on the lakeshore. His entrance into the synagogue on the Sabbath was
an entrance into the space where the Scribes had authority, and his
words and actions SHAKE THINGS UP. This is the start of Jesus
messing with the status quo, and challenging what is assumed to be
true.²

I believe that is much of the
role of Christianity today, but I’ll get back to that.

This question of authority is
also central to the Hebrew Bible reading today. It comes in the
midst of a passage about the appropriate ways the roles of king,
judge, and priest should be fulfilled. Our passage is about the way
the role of prophet should be fulfilled. It is interesting because
the author of Deuteronomy is pretty clearly uncomfortable with the
role of prophet, and yet doesn’t think he can get away with
pretending prophets away. It is likely that Deuteronomy reflects the
perspective of the priestly voice, and the priests and the prophets
had an uneasy relationship.

The priests, like the kings,
inherited their power and role, which functioned to distance them
from everyone else. They got their authority at birth. Prophets, on
the other hand, emerged out of no where and were seen to have the
authority of speaking for God (at least by their followers.) They
often served to call others in authority to account, particularly for
the care of the vulnerable, and to warn that an unjust society would
not be sustainable.

The passage wants to limit
prophets. They have to be insiders, which is HILARIOUS, because I
just dare anyone to attempt to impose such a limit on the Divine.
They’re threatened a bit too, in hopes of reigning them in.

I think the role of the prophet
is interesting for THIS church, because historically the role of this
church in the Church-At-Large and in Society has been the role of
prophet. This is a church where justice-seekers gather, trying to
build the kindom of God, and willing to name things AS THEY ARE in
order to do so. Or, to be a little less diplomatic about it, we’re
really good at being a thorn in the side when one is needed. We
don’t go away, we don’t stop agitating, we aren’t willing to throw
anyone under the bus, and we are OK with people being annoyed with
us. We believe that calling for justice is the work of God, and
we’re going to do it.

In
contrast, the role of priest is largely one of ritual, and is a role
that is dependent on the good-graces of others. A priest is limited
in function because a priest has no means of survival other than the
good will of the people or more often of those in power.

To
be simplistic about it, the priestly role is about creating the
religious myths that uphold the status quo. The prophetic role is
about calling out the injustices of the status quo and motivating
change to a better system.

I
see those two roles intertwined in the Bible, struggling against each
other, and I see them in religious history as well. So it is no
shock that some of each is in every religious community, but more so
than most, this church is defined by its role as prophet.

It
may make sense then, that I also see Jesus as functioning in the
prophetic role. I am, after all, the pastor of a prophetic church.
In this Gospel lesson, Jesus is using his authority. So, he is using
“the ability, actual or assumed, to control the behavior of
others.”³
This seems to lead to the question: what was Jesus changing the
behaviors from and what was Jesus changing the behaviors to? Scholar
Ched Myers says, “Mark’s Gospel was originally written to help
imperial subjects learn the hard truth about their words and
themselves. …. His is a story by, about, and for those committed
to God’s work of justice, compassion, and liberation for the world.”⁴

That
is, Jesus was about opening the eyes of the people to see how they
were being oppressed, and to work together to break the chains of
oppression, so that they could build a society and a world without
oppression.

We
are quite clearly not Jesus’s audience, nor Mark’s. While our
community has a wide range of socio-economic statuses, we are a part
of The United States which is far more similar to Rome in the time of
Jesus than it is to Nazareth. So what does the authority of Jesus
call us to today?

I
believe Jesus calls us out of systems of oppression, and their myths.
Those myths include: some people matter more than others, some
people deserve more than others, there isn’t enough to go around –
so every person or group should fight for their own good, life is
about getting “ahead,” the status quo is mostly good, “be nice”
and don’t upset people, some people are just going to have to be left
behind and nothing can be done about it. There are a lot of myths
under this that support it, ones that maintain sexism, racism,
heteronormativity, the exclusion of people with disabilities, and
other forms of HIERARCHY of humans.

These
myths can be hard to let go of. They’re pervasive, they’re
insidious, and they’re even found in most faith communities, because
faith communities are comprised of people who also exist in society.

Jesus
calls us to justice, compassion, and liberation for the world. Jesus
calls us to kindom building, to being the beloved community, to
sanctification. (Sanctification is the process of letting go of
everything that isn’t love so that love can motivate all of our words
and actions.) God’s love extends to each and every living person,
and each and every living being. The change God seeks is from the
status quo to a world of equity, equality, compassion, and love.
THIS is the role of Christianity in the world.

The
work of the church is to value what God values, to model a community
that lives by those values, to support each other in the
transformation towards sanctification, and to believe that the work
of the kindom is the work of our lives. This is why we do things
together – so we can learn from each other, so we can love on each
other, so we can learn compassion from the inside and then share it
in the world. As we let go of the myths of systems of oppression,
we’re freed to see more and more clearly what justice looks like and
to live it more deeply.

THIS
is why we are people who take on the prophetic role. We have been
blessed to be able to see what oppression looks like AND to see what
life can be with God’s equality and equity at the center.

Why
do we exist? To live the values of the kindom, to show them to each
other and the world, to be hope for what can come. Should we
continue to do so? Yes, I rather think we should.

May
God help us along our way! Amen

1
Bruce J. Malina and Richard L. Rohrbaugh Social Science
Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels
(Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003) “Textual Notes: Mark
1:231-34” p. 150.

2 Ched
Myers, Binding the Strong Man
(Orbis Books: Maryknoll, NY, 1988, 2008), 141-143.

3
Malina and Rohrbaugh p. 150.

4 Myers,
11.

Uncategorized

“What Did They See?” based on Psalm 62:5-12 and…

January 24, 2021
by Sara Baron

I
was lucky enough to be raised in the church, and a thoughtful loving
church at that. I liked church, I liked Sunday School, I loved
church camp. Nevertheless, feeling a call to ordained ministry felt
like it came out of no where. The call came during a worship service
at camp, when the leadership of Jesus was being described. The camp
director compared the characteristics of a worldly leader with the
way that Jesus led, and invited us into the second kind of
leadership. She talked about worldly being “important,” and
having people serve and take care of them so they can do “important”
things. She compared it to the leadership of Jesus, as seen in
foot-washing, where leaders lead by serving others.

I
immediately, viscerally, wanted to be a part of that. The inversion
of what was important. The service. The care of people. The values
of the Jesus movement. My desire to be a part of THAT was strong
enough to change my life plans – from a desire to be an
environmental scientist to a desire to be a minister.

Whenever
I read the story of the call of the disciples, I can’t help but
wonder, “What did they see?” What was it about Jesus that was so
compelling that they changed not only their life PLANS like I did,
but their LIVES? Why did they go?

I
bring a lot of skepticism to Biblical texts, but I do tend to think
that a lot of people left their lives behind to follow Jesus. Thus,
this story contains some big T Truth, whether or not it happened
exactly this way.

So,
what was it that made Jesus and his message so attractive? Why did
people walk away from lives they knew just to follow him? Why was he
so popular it began to threaten the Roman Empire?

There
are a few pieces that may come into play. One option is that
people’s lives were really awful, so any alternative was better than
the status quo. This may have come into play, but most people are
still hesitant to leave what they know, so it isn’t SUFFICIENT.

Rev. Rob Bell has a
video series called NOOMA, and in one of them he points out that in
the time of Jesus, all Jewish boys got some basic education, and the
brightest and the best got to have more. There was continued
education and continued weeding until the point when Teachers
(Rabbis) would pick a few students to teach, and the rest settled
into other lives. Thus, the very best Jewish scholars got to spend
their lives working on questions of faith, Biblical interpretation,
and things of God. The rest …. didn’t. Rob Bell suggests that
when Jesus called the fisherman, and invited them to follow him – a
teacher – a rabbi, he was inverting that system and inviting those
who’d been weeded out first into the best sort of education.

That is, perhaps the
disciples followed because Jesus called – and no one else had.
They were welcomed to be students of Jesus, but no one else had
wanted them.

I haven’t heard this
theory elsewhere, so I’m not sure if it is true, but it also seems to
contain some big T True.

Even so, even if
life was hard and even if Jesus was the first one to invite them into
a life of Spiritual goodness, there had to be something about Jesus
himself that was simply attractive enough to follow. Based on how
stories are told of him, it seems most likely that what was amazing
and attractive in Jesus was his connection to God.

Now, it is important
to remember that connections to the Divine are not a Jesus-only
thing, nor a Jesus-movement-only thing. Today’s Psalm, which comes
from Christianity’s Jewish roots, speaks profoundly about connection
to the Divine.

The Psalmist says,
“For God alone my soul waits in silence, my hope is from God” –
and then goes on to name all the ways that God is the source of
dependable goodness that allows for life to be lived well. The
Psalmist compares the inconsistencies of life with the constancy of
God, the un-importance of wealth and measures of power with the
importance of steadfast love.

That sort of
mystical connection to God, that trust, that wisdom – seems much
like what the disciples may have seen in Jesus. Embodied love and
grace are profoundly attractive. (If Im totally honest, I prefer the
sort of “evangelism” that is being such a happy, kind, and loving
person that people want to know how you became like that.)

I wonder if the
choice of the disciples to follow Jesus had some of each of the
components we’ve talked about – and one more. I wonder if those
who followed Jesus had always been looking for something, that is
that they’d always been nudged by God towards more, and when Jesus
came they had “ah ha moments” and recognized that this was what
they’d been waiting and looking for.

That way of God
working in lives fits what I’ve lived and what I’ve seen in people’s
lives. I wonder if it fits in yours? Have you felt God nudging you
along the way? Has God pushed and prodded you towards something?
Have you found it? Are you still looking?

I think that God is
always calling us, prodding us, nudging us — that is, guiding us.
Calls aren’t one time events that can be answered and then
disregarded. Rather, calls are continual guidance on the next steps
of our lives. Sometimes God’s calls are rather small, urges to be
“good” or “kind.” Sometimes they’re huge – reminders to
build the kindom – to take on the issues of injustice and change
the world.

But I think there
are also particular asks for particular people (at particular times).
Jobs or volunteer positions to take (or not). Relationships to
build or let go of.

In what way are you
being called right now?

Is it just to offer
care in and love in the world – a call that might be met with one
of the Lenten projects coming up? Is it something bigger? Or
something different?

Are you listening?

Will you be ready to
respond?

I suspect many
factors were involved in the way the disciples choose to follow
Jesus. They were disenchanted with their lives, they were yearning
for something more, someone finally invited them, they could SEE
God’s hand in the life of Jesus, and God had long been at work
preparing them for that moment. I suspect many of those factors are
alive and well among us as well. May we be ready to answer, when God
calls. Amen

January 24, 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

Uncategorized

“Nonviolence” based on 1 Samuel 3:1-10 and John 1:43-51

January 17, 2021
by Sara Baron

I’m
intrigued by the words in 1 Samuel, “The word of the LORD was rare
in those days; visions were not widespread.” The story says, in
those days, it took a while before the one being called by God
realized it.

Since
the beginning of October we have offered a “Contemplative Prayer
Service” on Sunday mornings at 10AM. Since the middle of November
it has been online. I’ve gotta admit, it has exceeded my
expectations. They were pretty low 😉 It turns out that getting on
zoom, muting your mic, and praying while other people are sitting on
zoom (mostly with their mics off) praying actually IS more connected
than praying alone.

It
is easier to be still then.

This
week I’ve found that I can’t get through the day without some silence
in prayer. I just get too agitated. And the angst builds and
builds, until I take time away from inputs to simply be with the
Divine.

These
defined times of prayer – with others in the Contemplative Prayer
Service as well as the ones I’ve taken out of deep and abiding need –
have reminded me of some things I’m embarrassed I’d forgotten.
Perhaps I hadn’t forgotten, but at the very least they came as well
needed reminders when other things had started to take precedence in
my being.

Ready?

First,
God is still THERE, or HERE, or however you say it. I’d like to
claim I NEVER forget that, but each time I settle into prayer and I
sense the peace that passes understanding and the grace that abides
I’m … surprised again. Maybe this is just because God’s goodness
is better than I’m ever able to remember, but each and every time I
encounter it I’m relieved to find it there.

Second,
stillness is …. possible. It often feels impossible right until it
happens. I get drawn into the news, into the COVID statistics, into
my own to-do lists, and then I get distracted by baby cries or
squeals, – or emails or texts – and the whole of life seems to be
carefully created to keep me from finding stillness (and letting me
have excuses about it) but then when I do it, it is still there
waiting for me and it is GLORIOUS.

Third,
there is a vibrant, thriving, almost tangible connection between all
living things and the Living God. When the noise of the world isn’t
in the way, the spiritual wonder is breath-taking.

Perhaps
these reflections are able to serve as a reminder to you of things
you also know. Or perhaps they serve as a reminder of a need to find
time for contemplative practice.

For
me, they serve as a source of transformation. My emotional responses
to the world right now are….sharp. I’m horrified. I’m terrified.
I’m disgusted. And yet, closer to home, I’m also delighted, and
exhausted, and grateful, and worried, and relieved. It is just a
whole lot to hold.

I
have been thinking about the retreat we did in 2017 with Bishop Susan
Hassinger, looking at spiritual practices that uphold social justice
work. This might also be called the grounding for building the
kindom, or following the way of Jesus without burning out.

The
needs of social justice work, of kindom building, are so BIG that I’m
overwhelmed by them unless I get grounded in the unfailing love of
the Divine. Worse, in this moment, I’ve finding it easier to get
pulled into the polarization of our society – which dehumanizes
“the other side” than ever. This is a BIG problem, particularly
for one who seeks to be a Jesus follower.

Are
you ready for today’s challenge? One of the great interpreter’s of
the life and teachings of Jesus in our tradition, the Rev.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote,

To
our most bitter opponents we say: “We
shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to
endure suffering. We shall meet your physical force with soul force.
Do to us what you
will, and we shall continue to love you. We
cannot in all good conscience obey your unjust laws, because
noncooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is
cooperation with good. Throw us in jail, and we shall still love you.
Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our community at the
midnight hour and beat us and leave us half dead, and we shall still
love you. But be ye assured that we will wear you down by our
capacity to suffer. One day we shall win freedom, but not only for
ourselves. We shall so appeal to your heart and conscience that we
shall win you in the process, and our victory will be a double
victory.”¹

I
feel quite confident that the most bitter opponents of the work of
Rev. Dr. King, and the kindom, have been hard at work in our society,
and their work has exploded into violence, death, fear-mongering, and
the disruption of our democracy. Rev. Dr. King worked against the
forces of white supremacy, by working for the full humanity of all
people.

And
that man, that wise prophetic man, that man whose life itself was
taken by the violence of the world, is the one who said, “Do it us
what you will, and we shall continue to love you.”

He
refused to face violence with violence, he believed that the Jesus
movement was founded in NONVIOLENCE. He refused to meet hate with
anything but love. Now, of course, LOVE did not mean “compliance.”
Love meant naming evil, love meant good analysis of power dynamics,
love meant strategic planning of protests, love meant taking care of
the people’s spiritual well being so they could keep on working for
God’s greater good. Love does not require us to back down. Love
does not require us to become passive. Love does not require us to
become silent.

But,
love does require us to seek the well-being of ALL OF GOD’S BELOVEDS,
and dear ones, this week, that includes people who are part of white
supremacist groups, and people who are part of QAnon cults, and even
the people who use those people to gain and keep power. Love
requires us to want what is good for all of them, although – thank
goodness – that doesn’t include that they get to keep power or
continue using violence. Perpetuating violence hurts both the one
who is violated and the one who violates. No goodness or love comes
out of it.

But
following the way of Jesus, nonviolent, loving resistance, that
builds the kindom. You may remember the admonition in Matthew to
turn the other cheek, “But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer.
But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also;
and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as
well.“ (Matthew 3:39-40, NRSV) Walter Wink’s teaching informed me
that these teachings are the ultimate in nonviolent loving
resistance. In those days there were two forms of striking a person
– one used for equals and one used for inferiors. A backhand vs. a
slap. The left hand was NEVER used because… well… toilet paper
hadn’t been invented yet. To turn the other cheek is to respond to
the diminishing insult of a backhand with an invitation to hit again
– but this time as an equal. Similarly, the Hebrew Bible forbids
anyone from leaving a person naked in the process of seeking loan
repayment. So, if a person seeks restitution of a loan by demanding
your OUTER garment, and you offer your INNER garment as well, you put
them in the situation of having to refuse to take both or stand in
violation of religious law.

I
sort of wish today’s gospel lesson has the question “Can anything
good come out of Nazareth?” asked to Jesus himself, but I think
John does well with it anyway. The answer of the whole book is “YES”
and the person asking the ignorant question is immediately aware of
his error. Loving nonviolence here includes seeing the world, and
its locations, a new.

I
am a little bit concerned that because I have focused on spiritual
grounding for kindom building, and nonviolent resistance
as the form of kindom building, that someone might not have
heard me speak imperative truths. So, please give me a moment to be
abundantly clear:

People
who perpetuate violence in the name of Christianity are not following
Jesus.

Christianity
itself has been profoundly co-opted by white supremacy in this nation
(and many others), and it is our obligation to CONTINUALLY root it
out, transform it, and be self-aware of how it is playing out in our
lives and communities.

The
violence we have seen in terms of mobs attacking governmental
institutions in this country are the angry expression of
mostly-white, mostly-men who believe they have a fundamental right to
be more important than others. Like any other abuser, they are most
violent when they fear they are losing control. THEY ARE LOSING
CONTROL, and they are truly terrifying as such.

The
progress we have seen in humanizing people from the fullness of
humanity is NOT GUARANTEED – these angry abusive mobs have friends
in very high places, and a lot of backing.

God
is always, always, always on the side of full and abundant life for
ALL PEOPLE.

So
that’s the side we are on. We don’t want power consolidated with
mostly white mostly men because no one group is able to adequately
seek the good of all groups. It is only through shared knowledge,
resources, and power that we can seek the common good.

And
THAT is why I want us to be grounded in contemplative prayer, good
analysis, and God’s grace. Because I believe those are means of
countering the insidious voices of white supremacy and it’s close
cousin the patriarchy. To move towards the kindom requires seeking
clearly what is happening, and letting God’s love transform us, and
the world through us.

So,
dear ones, please find the time to connect with grace.

Please
allow grace and love to fill you up.

Please
let Rev. Dr. King’s reminder of the way of Christ continue to
challenge you.
Please recommit to
Jesus’s way of nonviolence.

And
may God grant us wisdom for the facing of this hour. Amen

1Rev.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “On Loving Your Enemies” found at
https://www.onfaith.co/onfaith/2015/01/19/martin-luther-king-jr-on-loving-your-enemies/35907
on March 29, 2018.

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

January 17, 2021

Uncategorized

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

December 27, 2020
by Sara Baron

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Break forth together into
singing, you ruins of Jerusalem;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And
that’s some good Christmas news.

Amen

1United
Methodist Hymnal #510

2Summarized
from Apple Dictionary

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

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