"Glimpses of Glory"- Exodus 24:12-18, Matthew 17:1-9 -- Feb. 26, 2017

I had the opportunity this week to read the radiologist’s report of an MRI I had had taken several years ago. Most of it was full of unintelligible (to me) medical terminology, but I did manage to pick up the phrase "grossly unremarkable." At first, I was a little offended. It sounded like something I would have said about myself in junior high, something I would have written in my diary–"I am so grossly unremarkable." [I still have my days!] But then I realized that in this context–on an MRI report–being "grossly unremarkable" was a good thing–nothing to be concerned about, no abnormalities or shady spots or anything, really, that warranted further tests or exploration. So, phew! Hooray! Grossly unremarkable!

It occurred to me that "grossly unremarkable" is just about the opposite of "transfigura- tion," our story for today. "Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. [If you think, as the ancients did, that God was "up there," then going up to a high mountain would be where you’d go to be with God.] And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white." Utterly astounding.

Author John Aurelio imagines it like this–

"When they reached the mountaintop, Jesus with his arms extended was dancing and laughing and calling out to Elijah to carry him home. The wind was blowing and the dust he kicked up swirled around him like a great cloud. The sun blazed behind him so that they had to squint to see him. ‘I have never seen him like this,’ Peter said to John. ‘Nor I. Isn’t it wonderful?’ John and James took Jesus by the hand and they circled and danced together."[Imaging the Word, vol. 1, p. 139]

Transfiguration. The opposite of grossly unremarkable. Transfiguration is not just going from vanilla to chocolate, as Donna Schaper says, but from vanilla to music. [UCC Daily Devotional, 2/23/17] This vision of Jesus, transfigured, shining like the sun, dancing and conversing with Moses and Elijah, seared into the disciples’ retinas, so that they might remember it in the days ahead, when they would squint into that dark light that shone behind the cross where this same Jesus hung nailed and suffering. "This is my Beloved Son. Listen to him." This glimpse of glory would remind them, as Tom Long says, that "Jesus was not victim, but victor, not the one despised and rejected by the world, but ...well-pleasing and beloved by God." [cited by Kathryn Matthews in sermonseeds, 2/26/17] In the agony and in the ecstasy, in the extremes of the human condition, God has experienced what we experience and is present with us wherever we are and whatever we are experiencing.

"Some have suggested that the problem of our times is ecstasy deficit," writes Bruce Epperly. "We have become so busy about our own affairs that we have lost the vision of beauty...[We have] tamped down wonder to consume, prophecy to profit, beauty to buy, and awe to acquire." We have turned this awesome, stunningly beautiful and diverse earth into a garbage dump. "We have become oblivious to the wonder of our own and others’ being." [B. Epperly, adventurouslectionary, 2/26/17] Too many seek ecstasy in drugs with names like "ecstasy," or heroin, or fentynol, or alcohol, or Oxycodone. An "ecstasy deficit."

It is not only Jesus who is capable of being transfigured, whose face and being shines like the sun, who is beloved of God, but also we ourselves. "The glory of God is the human being fully alive," as the 4^th c. bishop Irenaeus said. The Trappist monk Thomas Merton wrote back in the 1960's that our "world is absolutely transparent, and God is shining through it all the time" and through each of us. "There is no way of telling people," Merton said, "that they are all walking around shining like the sun." [cited in sermonseeds for Women’s Week, 2014]

This is not only stunningly beautiful, but also terrifying, stuff. When the Voice from the cloud spoke and claimed Jesus as Beloved Son, the disciples "fell to the ground and were overcome by fear," Matthew tells us. One translator says the word is more like, "They were afeared." [Mark Davis, leftbehindandloving it] Mysterium tremendum is the phrase Rudolph Otto used for this divine presence. Writer Annie Dillard recommends that we wear crash helmets in worship–"Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke?" she writes [cited by Matthews, op cit.]

And if this power, this radiance, is within us, we can no longer think of ourselves or others or act as though we were "grossly unremarkable." If, as Alfred North Whitehead affirmed, "the aim of the universe, the aim of God, is toward the production of beauty," then our response in alignment with that aim is to "bring forth beauty wherever we find it" [Epperly, op cit.] – bring it forth in every person we encounter, in the places we live, in the issues of our time. This ethic or morality of Epiphany, of catching glimpses of glory, does not then allow us to be "

complacent at millions of children dying and diminished by malnutrition, or choosing to prefer short term financial gain over protecting the planet." We live in such abundance–that’s what Epiphany teaches us–abundance of beauty, abundance of God’s presence, abundance of wonder, abundance of glory.

But–And–a glimpse of that glory is all we can bear at a time this side of death. We cannot simply set up a tent to dwell on the mountaintop, because life is more than that. Life is also service, life includes suffering, life includes struggle. "‘Master,’ Peter said again [in John Aurelio’s story]. ‘Why not stay here?’ He tried not to look in the direction Jesus had set his gaze, south toward Jerusalem. The sun was setting. It had been an extraordinary and eventful day. They were tired and happy. Jesus stared toward Jerusalem. ‘There is one more mountain to climb,’ he said. ‘In Jerusalem.’"

"Epiphany is about abundance," Bruce Epperly writes, "Lent turns us toward simplicity. Yet abundance and simplicity complement and inspire each other. Those who live by God’s abundance can live simply, so the planet might flourish." That true abundance prevents us from settling for ‘faux abundance’ and consumerism. It inspires us to generosity, to interdependence. Our task then is to be part of transforming the world, reclaiming the garbage dump we have made of the planet and creating a garden, restoring broken communities, welcoming the refugee and immigrant because there is enough to go around, reclaiming the radiance that may have been shamed or beaten or denied out of us.

So, one last story of Transfiguration. You may have heard it on Story Corps on National Public Radio this past Friday. It was a conversation between a father and son, the father now a judge in Cleveland, who began the conversation recalling his mother’s face.

"My mother had beautiful, big brown eyes and full, soft lips. I remember her lips from when she would kiss me. I adored my mother, but she was addicted to heroin. She and my stepfather were more concerned about their next fix than about whether we went to school or had anything to eat. I saw things no kid should ever have to see.... The way I escaped was going outside and playing. I would throw my little football up in the air, and I would go to the library and read every book I could get my hands on, anything to escape the reality of my home.... When I became a parent, I determined that whatever my mother and stepfather did, I would do the opposite. .... Other than the doctor, I was the first one to hold you when you were born. I kissed you and spoke to you. I would have given you the shirt off my back, my shoes, my socks, my underwear, I would have gone stark naked to clothe you. I always make sure you eat before I do.

"Is that why you get mad at me for not eating breakfast?" his son asks.

"Yes, because I went without breakfast for so long. I know I can be harder on you than other parents."

"Sometimes you are overbearing," the son says to his father. "But I know where you’re coming from, Dad. I only want to see you at home, or at my games, but never in court."

"You have been a wonderful son and I have loved being your dad," the father says. "And I love being your son."

That’s transfiguration. From vanilla to music. That’s the power at work in our lives and in the world. In the agony and in the ecstasy, in life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us. We are not alone. And we are shining like the sun. Thanks be to God!

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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Logo Lent 2 22 2017

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"Love Epidemic"-- Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18, Matthew 5:38-48-- Feb. 19, 2017

"Turn the other cheek." "Walk the second mile." "Love your enemies." So many "quotes" here, as my brother-in-law refers to commonly heard sayings. And yet, like last week’s passage about not getting angry, never swearing, not even thinking unchaste thoughts, we keep these teachings at a distance. They stand out in front of us to judge us, because who of us can meet this standard? And then, just to put the cherry on the top, the passage ends with, "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." That’s just terrific, isn’t it?

If it makes you feel any better, biblical scholar and activist Walter Wink says that Jesus couldn’t even have said, "Be perfect" because there’s no word in Aramaic for such a thing. Aramaic was Jesus’ native tongue, but Matthew and the other gospels were written in Greek. "Perfect" was a Greek idea, as in a "perfect circle," but the word used here is telos, which means the intended outcome. Be what you’re intended to be, just as God is the One God is supposed to be.

So, if we can just hold that notion of being who we’re intended to be, rather than being "perfect," for the time being, let’s go back to the "easy" commandments like "turning the other cheek," "giving the cloak off our back," and "walking the second mile." Walter Wink writes, "Christians have, on the whole, simply ignored this teaching. It has seemed impractical, masochistic, suicidal–an invitation to bullies and spouse-batterers to wipe up the floor with their supine Christian victims." [Engaging the Powers, p. 175]

Indeed, critics from the left and the right have dismissed this particular section of Jesus’ teaching which we’ve come to call the Sermon on the Mount as ridiculous. Ayn Rand, the darling of the Tea Party, wrote, "If any civilization is to survive, it is the morality of altruism that men [sic] have to reject." And, of course, on the left, Karl Marx wrote, "The social principles of Christianity preach cowardice, self-contempt, abasement, submissiveness, and humbleness."

You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ 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; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.

"Jesus here is at his ornery best," commentator Jason Byassee writes, "offering ‘advice’ that makes no sense divorced from the nature of the one that is giving it." [cited by Mark Suriano in sermonseeds, 2/19/17] Nor does it make much sense divorced from the community and context in which it was given.

Take, for example, the first instance. "If anyone strikes you on the right cheek,..." Why the right cheek? I’m going to ask Marsh to come up and help me with this. If I were to strike Marsh’s right cheek, I would have had to have done it with the back of my right hand. This was a right-handed culture, so I wouldn’t have punched him with my left hand. The left hand was reserved for hygiene . In fact, even to gesture with the left hand in the Qumran community, for instance, carried a penalty of 10 days penance.

So my strike of Marsh’s right cheek was clearly meant to humiliate him, rather than injure him. You strike a subordinate with the back of the hand. You punch only a peer with a fist. "If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also." So, if Marsh turns his left cheek to me, my only option with my right hand is to punch him, acknowledging him as a peer, as an equal. [And, by the way, there were severe penalties for striking a peer.]

By turning the other cheek, those whom Jesus was teaching would have claimed their humanity, their refusal to be humiliated or treated as "less than" their oppressor. The one who had struck them would be startled, "flummoxed," we might even say, perhaps, after the shock had worn off, having this "uppity" underling beaten or thrown into jail, but not after having acknowledged that for a moment at least, power had belonged to the one who turned the other cheek.

Just so with the one who had been sued, most likely for non-payment of a debt. Jesus’ listeners were overwhelmingly poor people, oppressed by a system of indebtedness that was clearly stacked against them. Jewish law allowed them to give their outer garment, their "coat," as collateral, but it also forbade anyone from keeping a poor person’s coat overnight, because that was often the only thing they had to keep them warm. To give one’s "cloak," or undergarment also, would have left the poor person naked, yes, but the shame was on the one who looked upon another’s nakedness. By giving their cloak as well, Jesus’ followers offered their bodies to expose the utter injustice and oppression of a system that burdened so many with such debt.

And finally, Roman soldiers were allowed to impress inhabitants of occupied territories to carry their packs–often 50 or 60 lbs.– but only for 1 mile. Rome was smart enough to limit the dissension and resentment of their subjects. Imagine then a soldier ready to take back his pack, when the man refused to give it up but rather insisting on carrying it further. "What fresh hell is this?" as Dorothy Parker might have said. "If you don’t give the pack back to me, I can be reported and punished." "No, no, let me keep carrying it for you."

"You have heard it said...but I say to you..." Jesus is "waking up a generation of people [says Mark Suriano] for whom the [Jewish] Law – now so associated with the powerful who are guardians of its precise following – only presents itself as a burden and obligation....Jesus is calling for a deeper and more radical way of following it." [sermonseeds, op cit.]

This is certainly no way to "get ahead" in this world. This is no "prosperity gospel," but Jesus is calling the rules of this world into question, by modeling and giving instructions for living in what he called "the kingdom of God," or as Matthew calls it, "the kingdom of heaven," since Jews avoided using God’s name. Jesus certainly never advocated violent revolution, but he is laying the foundations for a social revolution that, if it reaches a critical threshold of acceptance, could indeed become a political revolution. [Richard Horsley, cited by Wink, op cit.] Imagine!

We read and talk about a drug epidemic, an epidemic of lies, an epidemic of gun violence. Rabbi Joshua Levine, in a 2009 article, challenged people of faith to spread a positive social epidemic throughout their communities–a new epidemic of compassion, honor, goodness, gratitude, civility, and respect." [cited by Dan Clendenin, journeywithjesus, 2/23/14] What if we actually put these teachings of Jesus into practice, and spread a new epidemic of creative resistance to injustice and hatred? What if we refused to sling back taunts and insults in our public demonstrations and discourse, but instead modeled dignity, respect, groundedness, love that was neither naive nor cowardly? What if we made our so-called "enemies" or "opponents" or those on the other side of issues uncomfortable or "itch-y" because our actions and responses were not what they expected, were, in fact, respectful, even humorous, not sinking to the low level of the usual discourse. What if we did indeed "go high" when they "go low"?

"Do not resist evil," Jesus’ words get translated, but the word for "resist" here really means, "do not mirror evil." "Do not resist evil with evil." This is not a teaching of non-resistance, or even strict pacifism. It is not training in cowardice, but it does require training, practice. The marchers who walked from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama in 1965 didn’t simply set out on a walk. "They were taught how to be quiet, how to be still, how not to resist and fight back no matter what happened." [Sister Peace, Plum Village, in HuffPost, 2/16/17] They practiced being spit in the face, being called horrible names, having violent words literally thrown in their faces. They practiced holding on to one another, standing next to one another, reminding one another of Love at the core of their actions.

What if we were to spread love, instead of anger and lies, hatred and resentment? Brother Phap Dung of Thich Nhat Hahn’s Plum Village concedes that anger can bring about change, but it can ultimately lead only to more conflict. He lifts up the Buddhist teaching of inter-dependence, which says that "the people we perceive as our greatest enemies can be our greatest teachers, because they show aspects of ourselves that we find unpalatable and give us the chance to heal." [Huff Post, op cit.] Jesus’ teaching to love our enemies is a wisdom teaching, because our enemies have something to teach us. We are the ones who are changed by loving them, but in the process, our enemies may be changed as well.

So we come back to, "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." As I said, there’s no word in Aramaic for "perfect." Walter Wink thinks Jesus most surely used the word shalem, meaning whole, complete, mature, undivided. It’s what shalom or peace comes from. "Be whole," he said, "be complete, be who you were intended to be, as surely God always is." We are intended to be in relationship, we are intended to do our part, to live into the kingdom of God that is always and everywhere breaking in through our actions, our words, our intuitions, our thoughts, and by the grace of God, breaking in in spite of us. Spread love, infect others with your commitment to justice and peace, make those who have settled with ease into patterns and systems of injustice and isolation–make them ill at ease. Remember who you are and Whose you are. So may the epidemic of love spread and grow and deepen until it infects us all.

Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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"Extreme Measures"-- Deut.30: 15-20, Matthew 5: 21-37-- Feb. 12, 2017

You may have heard the story from a Benedictine monastery whose primary rule was hospitality, to treat each guest as though they were Jesus. One day, a brother came to the abbot and confessed, "Father, some days, when I see yet another stranger walking up the path, I say, ‘Jesus Christ, is that you again?’" I have to say that there are times when I’ve felt exactly the same way, particularly around the 15^th of the month when we begin handing out $10 vouchers for gas and food. It is such a drop in the bucket of need, and when I find myself getting judge-y, I try to remember, "Jesus Christ, is that you again?"

So it was that this week, when I was wrestling with this challenging part of the Sermon on the Mount, that I heard the first line of our next hymn in a new way, "O Jesus, I have promised to serve you to the end!" What have I done? Promised never to get angry? Never to swear? Never to let a slight go unforgiven or unapologized for? I might as well cut off my arm or gouge out my eye, if this is the standard I’ve promised to live by!

The Rev. Amy Butler, who’s now pastor of NY City’s Riverside Church, once decided not to preach on the Sermon on the Mount, but rather just to preach it. She read the whole thing–2 chapters as we’ve arranged Matthew’s gospel–in the place of the sermon. During coffee hour afterward, a number of people came up to her and told her they really didn’t like "her" sermon. She might have said, "Tell that to Jesus," though I don’t think she did. But these are hard words to hear, let alone live by, aren’t they? They sound impossibly archaic–"old-fashioned" hardly describes it–puritanical, even ruthless.

I think back to President Jimmy Carter’s confession that he had looked upon a woman with "lust in his heart," and then think of the released videotape of our current president talking to a reporter about not only his thoughts but his actions toward women, and the gap seems as wide as the one between Jesus’ time and our own. With the divorce rate in our society somewhere between 40 and 50% now, how are we to hear Jesus’ prohibition against divorce or against divorced people re-marrying? It seems to me that if we were to take all of these words literally, we could well end up with a congregation full of various body parts and stumps, which none of us could see, because we’d all had to gouge out our eyes. "O Jesus, I have promised to serve you to the end...."

"See," God says to the people of Israel, about to cross over into the Promised Land, "I have set before you life and prosperity, death and adversity....I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants my live, loving the Lord your God, obeying God, and holding fast to God; for that means life to you and length of days..."

Choose life. Each moment is an opportunity for decision-making, [Bruce Epperly, adventurous lectionary, 2/1/17] though perhaps not so starkly put as "life and death, blessings and curses." "Many paths are available to us, some leading to abundance and beauty," as Bruce Epperly says, "others to scarcity and ugliness. Our choices are not just for ourselves. They shape our relationship to God and the world beyond us, including our future."

In his "Sermon on the Mount," which is really just how Matthew has chosen to arrange these teachings, Jesus is speaking to his community, whose very existence really did depend upon their living together in relationships of honesty and integrity. Since the ideal marriage partner was a first cousin, for example, you can imagine how divorce and adultery would tear apart a family-based society, let alone the fact that a man could simply write a writ of divorce against his wife, leaving her without resources or options. "You have heard it said....but I say to you..." Jesus was not discarding the tradition of his ancestors in faith, but rather going deeper into the heart of those teachings, reaffirming the spirit intended within them, recognizing that our thoughts and intentions can have as much power as our actions.

Professor Karoline Lewis cites a poem by Marilyn Maciel, which says in part, "if words could be seen/ as they floated out/ of our mouths/ would we feel no/ shame/ as they passed beyond/ our lips? If we were to string/ our words/ on a communal clothesline/ would we feel proud/ as our thoughts/ flapped in the /breeze?" [workingpreacher.org, 2/12/17]

You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is God’s footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from the evil one.

We certainly don’t have any control over what we hear in the streets or in the media, but we can make the decision that we will not contribute to the coarseness or meanness that is so rampant. And as we consider the numerous issues of social and environmental justice facing us, we would do well to examine our own intentions and attitudes before we engage in behaviors that might simply add to the divisions and hatred and prejudice that are already tearing us apart. The new Secretary of Education–no matter what you thought of her nomination-- ought to be allowed into a public school to do her job.

"I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo Baggins to Gandalf the Wizard in JRR Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings. He was referring to the pitched battle of the forces of Mordor against the forces of "men" and elves, a battle that to all appearances, looked doomed and dreadful to Frodo. "I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo . "So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

"See I have set before you life and prosperity, death and adversity...Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying God, and holding fast to God."

"Our nation," says the Rev. James Alexander Forbes Jr,

has a right to expect faith communities to provide vision, vitality, meaning, purpose, responsibility toward each other, respect and care for our planet, as well as accountability and trust in God who is creator of us all. Lukewarm and lackluster religion will not be able to address the demands of these troubling times of polarization, destabilization, and lightning speed change. What is needed now is deeply rooted faith, firmly held convictions, and conscientious and courageous discipleship among the adherents of all our faith-based institutions. There can be no question but that we are called to help save the soul of our nation. Do we have the strength of character and moral and spiritual influence to tilt our nation toward justice, peace, compassion, and ecological responsibility? [Odyssey Network Scripture, 2/12/17]

"O Jesus, I have promised to serve you to the end..." There is no doubt the bar is set high here in the Sermon on the Mount, and I for one cannot promise perfection or unfailing success in serving God or the One who gave his life so totally in that service. What I can strive for is not to offer "lukewarm or lackluster religion" in that service. I have now added to my morning affirmations :"With all that I am and all that I have, I seek to serve you, O God."

Life and death, blessing and curse. Those are the choices before us. Jim Wallis of the Sojourners Community writes,

Speaking the truth and acting on behalf of what is right will take all of us, at the deepest levels.

Preachers should preach ever more prophetically, teachers should teach formation and not just information, writers should write ever more honestly, lawyers should fight courageously for those who need their help, reporters should report the facts ever more diligently and speak the truth to power regardless of what the powers think about that, artists should make art that nurtures people and makes them think and inspires them to action. People who know climate change should fight on climate change, people working for living wages and economic justice should keep organizing, people working for human rights, voting rights, women’s rights, immigrant rights, refugee rights, and LGBTQ rights should keep defending and advocating. We all should serve those around us. We all should watch for people being left out and alone. [SoJo.net, 2/10/17]

With all that we have and all that we are, let us seek to serve the God of Love and Life. Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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"A City on a Hill"- Isaiah 58:1-12, Matthew 5:13-20-- Feb. 5, 2017

In our on-going local and national debate about energy resources–from renewable and non-renewable sources–one source that rarely gets mentioned among us is donkey dung. Or camel dung. But in Jesus’ day, and in the Middle East and many third-world countries today, donkey dung is a primary source of heating fuel, much more available and affordable than wood.

It was the duty of young girls to collect the donkey dung, mix it with salt, and mold it into patties to be dried in the sun, and then used as fuel in earthen ovens. A slab of salt would be placed on the bottom of the oven, and the catalytic properties of the salt would cause the dung to burn. After a while, though, the salt slab would lose its catalytic properties–lose its saltiness–and so would be thrown out, to provide traction on the muddy path, "to be trampled underfoot," as Jesus said. [cf. John Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus, Cycle A, p. 31]

"You are the salt of the earth," Jesus told his disciples, using the same word for "earth" which also refers to the earthen ovens. You are the salt which produces fire which produces light.

Salt was also, of course, used for flavoring and preserving–you give zest and flavor, Jesus said, you make things enduring. And salt was rubbed on newborns, used to seal covenants, sprinkled on sacrifices, understood as a metaphor for wisdom, for God’s gracious activity. [Ron Allen, cited by Kathryn Matthews in UCC Sermon Seeds, 2/5/17] All that–and more–in "you are the salt of the earth." Not only flavor, but an element of sacred activity, a blessing, part of a dynamic process that changes properties, stirs things up, sets things on fire, gives off light.

"You are the light of the world," Jesus said. "A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house...Let your light shine.." "Shine" is the third imperative, the third command, in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, after "rejoice" and "be glad." "Shine." Three commandments so far–rejoice, be glad, and shine. "This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine..."

For almost her entire history, Israel had experienced oppression from outside forces, the latest being Rome, of course, in both Jesus’ time, and years later, when Matthew wrote to his community. And throughout that history, there had been a lively debate about the meaning of their suffering–Why is this happening to us? How could God let this happen? How are we to respond?

In Jesus’ generation, there were different factions who offered alternative responses–the Sadducees collaborated with the occupiers, the Zealots advocated violent revolution, the Pharisees looked to the Law, striving to scrupulously live according to it. "If one could not obtain one’s political independence," Kathryn Matthews explains, "at least one could preserve one’s cultural and religious identity as a people called and set apart by God; at least one could live in covenental righteousness."[Matthews, op cit., citing Edwin Chr. Van Driel] And there was a heightened sense of living in the end times. [I saw a cartoon recently that showed a man holding up a sign, "The end is near," and another man looking at it saying, "Is that good or bad?" There are days, aren’t there?!]

Jesus added another voice. He pointed to the present in-breaking of God’s realm in their midst, "God is already doing a new thing," Jesus said, fully immersed in the tradition of Isaiah. "Be Israel–be God’s chosen people–here and now." Don’t throw out the Law, fulfill it’s purpose, live into its spirit. Be salt and light. Be part of the transforming and healing of the world.

What might it mean for us to be salt and light, a transformative community in a world that has grown cynical, fearful, enraged, mean-spirited? "You are the salt of the earth," Jesus says to his followers of all ages. You already are. You are the light of the world. Be who you are. Don’t put a bushel over the light. Imagine if we put half the energy we put into building walls and ducking under bushels, trying to hide who we really are, imagine if we simply put that energy into being salt and light?

Author Madeleine L’Engle described beautifully how simply letting our light shine can be a form of "evangelism"–"We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe," she said, "by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it." [cited by Matthews, op cit.] Let your light shine.

And remember that Jesus’ "salty" images are not just about beautifically "shining." The salt that we are can set things on fire, can alter chemistry. We must not hide behind our Christian or our white privilege. We must not just "get over it," when injustice and hatred and prejudice are rampant. By letting our light shine through the banner we’ve hung out front–"Immigrants and refugees welcome"–we have stirred up questions and concerns. We’ve received at least 3 phone calls asking if we’re harboring refugees, do we know if there are illegal immigrants living in our neighborhood or community? You are salt and light.

Many of us are alarmed by the tone and manner of the injustice and fear-mongering that is currently spreading throughout our country and the world, but we must not forget that injustice and prejudice and fear have been experienced by many of our brothers and sisters in the years and months leading up to now and have not been addressed adequately. Jesus’ words to claim our identity as salt and light continue to challenge us, though perhaps we can hear them in a new way now. Perhaps someday we will be able to perform the fast that God desires of us, as Isaiah said–"to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke...to share our bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into our houses, to cover the naked, ..." The invitation to that fast has been issued in every generation.

We are not the first ones to pass this way. "Turning back the pages of the calendar to Berlin in its dark years," writes pastor Nancy Rockwell,

we read [the words of] Pastor Martin Niemoller, who held onto his hope that his government could emerge from its self-created darkness for years, yet finally came into open opposition, for which he was arrested. In a sermon just prior to his arrest by the Nazis, Niemoller spoke of Jesus’ words, ‘You are the light of the world.’--

‘What are we worrying about?’ [he asked] ‘When I read out the names (of church members missing or arrested), did we not think: ‘Alas and alack, will this wind, this storm, that is going through the world just now, not blow out the Gospel candle? We must therefore take the message in out of the storm and (keep) it safe?’ It is ....during these days that I have realized–that I have understood–what the Lord Jesus Christ means when he says: ‘Do not take up the bushel! I have not lit the candle for you to put it under the bushel, in order to protect it from the wind. Away with the bushel! The light should be placed upon a candlestick!....We are not to worry whether the light is extinguished or not; that is His concern: we are only to see that the light is not hidden away. ‘Let your light shine before men! [and women and children]’...The city of God cannot remain hidden. Brothers and sisters, the city of God will not be blown down by the storm. It will not be conquered even though the enemy take its outer walls. The city of God will stand because its strength comes from on high."

[cited by N. Rockwell, thebiteintheapple, 1/30/17]

"If you remove the yoke from among you," the prophet Isaiah says, "the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in." What an image to drink in!

We are salt and light. We are Christ’s body on earth. We are one loaf, one cup. That is who we are! Thanks be to God!

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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"The Way Less Traveled"- Micah 6:6-8, Matthew 5:1-12-- Jan. 29, 2017

The Beatitudes–these 12 verses at the beginning of Matthew 5–have been called by one commentator "Christianity for Dummies." You may have heard of that series of books–the "Dummies" series–I got "Robert’s Rules for Dummies" when I was moderator of the Southwest Association, and there are an astonishing number of subjects the series deals with–"Facebook for Dummies," "The Bible for Dummies," "Accounting for Dummies,""Acrylic Painting for Dummies," "Acid Akalyne Diet for Dummies," and that’s just the beginning of the "A’s"-- you name it, and chances are there is a "Dummies" book to help you through. The idea is to cut through all the jargon and intimidating details of a topic or system, "‘dumbing down’ their core concepts to their absolute essentials in a non-threatening, ‘how-to’ format. That’s exactly what Jesus does for us," this commentator claims, "in this week’s gospel," [David Sellery, This Week’s Focus, 1/29/14] in the Beatitudes. "Christianity for Dummies."

Well, you know me. Why make something simple when you can find layers and nuance and complexity?! I just find these sayings at the beginning of Jesus’ "Sermon on the Mount," as Matthew has arranged his teachings here, to be too challenging, too startling, too threatening to be dismissed as "for dummies." "The Be-Happy Attitudes"? as Robert Schuller called them? Really? "Blessed are those who mourn...blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you..."? Don’t worry, be happy?

Makarios is the Greek word used in all these sayings. It gets translated as "blessed," or "happy," but in a society that was based on honor and shame, like 1^st c. Palestine was, it really has more the sense of "honored." "Honored are you who are poor in spirit...honored are those who mourn...honored are the meek..." not shamed, not ridiculed. Those who heard Jesus’ teaching these things would have been shocked, just as we are, to hear this reversal of the world’s values and priorities. When had they ever felt honored for their poverty–of resources or of spirit? When had those who mourned felt good about it? When had hunger – for food or for righteousness– been regarded as a good thing, let alone rewarded?

"The Biblical tradition," as Disciples of Christ author and pastor Bruce Epperly writes, "is always counter-cultural in spirit. It agitates [others say it "afflicts"] the comfortable, whether conservative or progressive, by challenging our lifestyles and assumptions. And, conversely, as the saying goes, it also comforts the agitated [or afflicted], those at the margins of life, those with their backs against the wall, or struggling with debilitating life issues." [adventurouslectionary, 1/20/17]

Counter-cultural indeed, and getting more so by the minute, I have to say. While I wholeheartedly agree that the suffering and sense of abandonment of any of our citizens and brothers and sisters is cause for concern and attention, that is no reason to abandon the values of our Constitution or our faith, to discriminate on the basis of religion, or race, or station in life. "Honored are the poor...those who mourn...the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness...the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake..." It doesn’t get more currently counter-cultural than that.

"What does God require of you?" the prophet Micah asks those who have thought to buy God’s favor with elaborate offerings and shows of piety? How will God regard those who have devastated the land with their cheating and lying? "Can I tolerate wicked scales and a bag of dishonest weights?" God asks. "Your wealthy are full of violence; your inhabitants speak lies, with tongues of deceit in their mouths..." "God has told you, O mortal, what is good [Micah says]; and what does God require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" Christianity–the essence of the Biblical tradition–for dummies.

Back in 1997, Apple Corporation launched an advertising campaign called "Think Different." It featured portraits of people who had dared to go against the grain, the game-changers, people like Neil Armstrong, Amelia Earhart, and Apple head Steve Jobs himself. "Think different," Jobs said. "We were here to put a dent in the universe; otherwise, why else even be here?" It was an appealing, attractive invitation to buy into (literally) Apple’s minimalist aesthetic and technology, which, could be argued, did change the world. But it was an advertising campaign, not only urging our consumption of a product but has now become an overwhelming conformity. "Think different?" Have those of you–those of us–who have entered into the world of personal computers and smart phones tried to really "think different" and turn off the machines? Take a break from social media, wrestle with an idea instead of just Googling it? And what might "think different" mean in an era of "alternative facts" or "fake news"? It gets curioser and curioser, doesn’t it?

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek [not Caspar Miquetoast types, but those who are empty enough of self to be filled with God], for they shall inherit the earth...." This is about far more than thinking "different"–this is about living "different." A life of "transformed non-conformity," as Martin Luther King Jr. said. A life of being joyful–not just "happy, " but being in harmony with the essential intention of the universe. "Be joyful," farmer/poet Wendell Berry wrote in Mad Farmer Liberation Front, " be joyful,/ though you have considered all the facts." "Practice resurrection," he said. Live different. Think of the portratis in that campaign–Jesus, Martin Luther king, Jr., Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Desmond Tutu, Malala Yosefsay...

These 9 verses are less of a prescriptive "how-to" and more of a descriptive "this is what life is like." For example, you don’t have to go out and seek things to be sad about so you can be "blessed" or "honored." Sorrow and loss will find you. They are part of life. Not because you have done something bad or because you deserve it or God is punishing you. Even when you are mourning, you are "blessed," you are not alone, you will be given the capacity to endure. God is with you. So it is when you recognize how "poor in spirit," how prone to discouragement you are, how prone to bitterness, or judgmentalism, or prejudice; "I recognized I was powerless over alcohol, or drugs, or food," the first step of the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous says; or, as Luke’s version says, when you are poor – period – which happens, which is part of life for an overwhelming number of human beings on this planet– "blessed," "honored" are you; you are not alone, you will be given the capacity to endure. God is with you.

These "blessings" or makarisms are a description of life that is interdependent, fueled by sacrificial love, that may very well lead to persecution in this world which does not honor living "different," but is the way things work and are structured in God’s way, in that way less traveled, to riff on Robert Frost, and is the way to identify with the suffering of the world. This "letting go to transform the world" [Epperly, op cit.] is the only way it will be healed.

As we look for Epiphany moments in these days and weeks to come, we might look not only amongst the usual places and to the "usual suspects," but also in the unexpected, the unloveable, the un-beautiful, the unsuccessful, at least by the standards of our culture. We may find glimpses of God that shake us up, turn our assumptions and expectations upside down.

While I’m still not quite ready to call them "Christianity for Dummies," I do think that the Beatitudes and Micah’s 3 requirements – do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with God–are worth knowing by heart. Add these to our commission and maybe the 23^rd Psalm to keep in your backpack of words to live by. In these days and weeks and even years to come, we may need to be able to call up these blessings to help us endure. Let’s see if we can do this–

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely, on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven. For in the same way they persecuted the prophets before you.

"The Gospel is a word of protest," NT scholar Karoline Lewis says, and "The Beatitudes are a call to action for the sake of creating the world God imagines." [workingpreacher.org, 1/29/17] A call to action and a description of how God works in the world. "There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice," the great Jewish writer Elie Wiesel said, "but there must never be a time when we fail to protest." Protest with our lives, our words, our thoughts, our prayers. So may we "live different." So may we be part of the healing of the world.

Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

 

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Announcements

ANNOUNCEMENTS

BIRTHDAYS AND CELEBRATIONS THIS WEEK:

May 6 – Nora Parsons

               Jacob Ranttila

May 7 – Colin Derby

SUNDAY:

5:00 pm        Sunday Supper

TUESDAY: 7 p.m. Board of Deacons meets, Room 2

COMING UP:

• 
  
  
  
  • This is Kit Packing Week; we will be packing kits for shipping starting at 9:30am tomorrow through Wednesday or until done.
  
  
  • Tues, May 2^nd Deacons Meeting 7pm in Rm 2
  
  
  • Come and join us for the Fellowship luncheon on Wednesday May 3rd at noon. Sign-up sheet in Webster Hall if you wish to bring something.
  
  
  • Fri., May 12, 6 p.m. “Bridge to the Future” Dinner
  
  
  • Reading Group: The meeting of the Reading Group will be after worship Sunday May 14. (Sorry, it had to be moved from an earlier date announced in the Open Door because of schedule conflicts.) The theme is books by an author you expected to disagree with but which you read with as open a mind as possible. David Durfee
  
  
  
  

 

• Plant Sale at Second Congregational, Saturday, May 20^th. We're taking inventory! Please let us know what plants you have to share. Nora (442-6766) and Lynn (375-6355)

OTHER NEWS:

 

• Our Master Gardner extraordinaire, David, has announced that (at least for summer) our church gardens are available for adoption on a first-come basis. The church can provide water, some tools, and sunshine. “Your” garden may be tended at your leisure (except Sunday 10-11am) Sign up in the office!!


• There is a sign-up sheet in the Webster Hall for the May 12^th Dinner “Bridge To The Future” PLEASE sign-up by May 8^th so food needs can be determined. Thanks so much!!!

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“Many Paths to Follow”-- Psalm 27:1, 4-9, Matthew 4:12-23 -- Jan. 22, 2017

I’ve always found the story of Jesus’ calling his fishermen disciples a little “cult-ish.”
You just heard it–

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea–for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.

It’s a little too reminiscent of the movie “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” A little too suggestive of the need for an intervention to save a child from a cult.

But surely it’s a distilled version of what actually happened. Melissa Bane Sevier has a wonderful fantasy on what might have preceded this call. She imagines Zebedee looking at the backs of his sons as they follow Jesus down the beach and wondering how he’s going to tell his wife that they’ve gone. She tells the story of a typical family business, this fishing operation that Zebedee had inherited from his own father and hoped someday to pass down to his sons; the two boys, James and John, resisting being locked into that future, doing the usual grousing that teenagers and young men (and women) are apt to do, wishing that their father wouldn’t take some of the left-over fish after the day’s sales and drop them off at the shacks and small fires of the widows and poor families who lived along the way home, complaining and bickering as they mended the nets.

But then the boys, now young men, started hanging out with their school chum Jesus, who seemed to have matured faster than James and John. Sevier imagines–“Jesus often stops and talks with Zebedee at the end of the day and sometimes tries to help a little with the net mending. Jesus is terrible at mending. Even so, Zebedee continues to try to teach him, just to hear Jesus talk while they work together. He loves the things Jesus says about God. He loves what he says about justice for the poor.” [Contemplative Viewfinder, 1/16/17]

As the young men spend more and more time with Jesus, Zebedee notices that they seem to be growing kinder, less self-absorbed. He even notices that James is saving aside some of the widows’ favorite fish to slip to them on the way home.

And then one day, Jesus comes by and says, “Today’s the day. Come and follow me.” And of course they go–not without saying good-bye, but with no tears. And Zebedee is left with the other workers and his nets. He knows that he can’t leave. Not only is he too old for traipsing around the countryside, but who would take care of his wife and daughters and other sons? Who would catch the fish, let alone provide food for the widows and the poor? “Sometimes we are left behind for a purpose,” Sevier suggests.

President Obama, in his farewell address, issued a call to all of us to take up the work of citizenship. And President Trump, in his inaugural address, said that power wasn’t being transferred from one administration to the next, or one political party to another, but rather to the people. Democracy is not a spectator sport. It depends on the involvement and participation of its citizens for its very existence, to vote, to call our representatives to account, to support or protest as our conscience calls us. As my daughter wrote on her Facebook page about why she was participating in yesterday’s Women’s March–“because fear, despair, and apathy are the enemies, not people who are different; because our system of government requires engaged participation, because what we do as individuals affects our community, our country, and our planet.”

Being followers of Jesus requires no less–and probably more–participation, nothing less than our whole, unique selves, to discover just what it is that we were given so that we can be of service to the greater good, to live out our calling. The word “vocation” or calling often implies some grand, clear profession or role–like being a teacher, or doctor, or lawyer, a parent, an artist, a priest or minister or rabbi. And the “voice” who calls us is implied. I know that we talk about “sense of call” when we interview members in discernment for the ministry. Who told you you should be a pastor? Did you hear the words, “Follow me, and I will teach you how to fish for people”? The voice of my “calling” to ministry sounded more like a door slamming shut in front of me and another door opening behind me or to the side.

But what if our call is much more subtle? What if it’s less about what we should do and more about who we are?

As almost always, I find the words of story-teller and Jungian analyst Clarissa Pinkola Estes to be wise and inspiring. “You could be the water,” she writes in a poem, called “The Rainmaker: You Could Be the Water”--1. You could be the water...
By the scent of water alone,
the withered vine comes back to life,
and thus…
wherever the land is dry and hard,
you could be the water;
or you could be the iron blade
disking the earth open;
or you could be the acequia,
the mother ditch, carrying the water
from the river to the fields
to grow the flowers for the farmers;
or you could be the honest engineer
mapping the dams
that must be taken down,
and those dams which could remain to serve
the venerable all,
instead of only the very few.
You could be the battered vessel
for carrying the water by hand;
or you could be the one
who stores the water.
You could be the one who
protects the water,
or the one who blesses it,
or the one who pours it.
Or you could be the tired ground
that receives it;
or you could be the scorched seed
that drinks it;
or you could be the vine—
green-growing overland,
in all your wild audacity ...
©2000,2016, poem “The Rainmaker: You Could Be The Water,” by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés

How many ways there are to follow Jesus! Not only to drop everything and leave family behind to travel the countryside preaching and healing, but also to stay behind, to do your own work faithfully and full of love, to provide food for the people, or to deliver it, or to prepare it, or to make the place where nourishment is offered more beautiful. You could listen to people, you could remind them that they are Beloved. You could write legislation that structures our community more justly. You could thank or encourage a legislator. You could help clean up a stream or a river. You could pray. You could write songs or sing songs of praise or lament or justice. You could hold a child, or play with a child, or listen to a teen-ager. You could visit a mosque, or a synagogue and make new friends. You could sit quietly with someone who has lost a loved one, or give a foot massage to someone who’s depressed.

“Walk with me and work with me,” Jesus says in Peterson’s translation. “I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I’ll show you how to recover your life.” You could be the living water...or the ditch...or the vessel...or the tired ground...or the one who protects the water, the one who blesses it... The only option you don’t have is to do or be nothing.

The power of the story of the disciples’ dropping everything to follow Jesus is not their immediate, almost ruthless leaving of family and responsibilities. It is that we must indeed leave behind all that is not our way of serving the true God–we must leave behind all the other gods we spend our lives serving–money, success, possessions, family work, if they have become our gods. We must leave behind all those other false selves that are not our true self–let go of trying to be someone you’re not. “Be yourself,” Oscar Wilde said, “Everyone else is already taken.” The great Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day wrote, “No one has a right to sit down and feel hopeless. There is too much work to do.”

We pray each Sunday–perhaps each day–for God’s kingdom to come on earth, as it is in heaven. We are called to be part of making it a reality, of doing the “real work of Christmas,” as our anthem this morning sang about. It’s big enough for each one of us to take a little piece. In fact, each of us is essential. You could be the water, or who knows what else? “Come, follow me,” Jesus said. There are an infinite number of ways to do that. Pick one. Find one. Be that one.
Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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"What Time Is It?"- Isaiah 49:1-7, John 1:29-42 -- jan. 15, 2017

Joyce Hollyday, writing in Sojourners magazine, tells the story of

a boy named Free Spirit [who] was only 4 years old when he was wrenched away from his family and forced into a Canadian residential school. A nun gave him a new pair of shoes, which he plunged into a sink filled with water. He was shocked by the beating he received. His Algonquin people always soaked their new moccasins and chewed on them to soften the leather.

Decades later, [Hollyday writes] during Canada’s 2011 Truth and Reconciliation hearings in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Free Spirit joined scores of witnesses who shared their stories of suffering in schools whose purpose was to annihilate their culture. Each evening, all the tissues used to capture the day’s tears were gathered and released into the Sacred Fire that burned outside. There they mingled with ashes that had been carried from previous hearings in other cities. [Sojourners, Jan. 2017, p. 8]

Such deep wounds! Such a huge breach between cultures, somehow, tentatively, beginning to be repaired with truth-telling and listening, with tissue ashes and Sacred Fire.

Hollyday goes on to tell of a "truth and reconciliation" process in the United States.

In the United States, the first large-scale truth and reconciliation process was launched in Greensboro, N C in 2005. Its focus was the 1979 Greensboro Massacre, in which members of the Ku Klux Klan and American Nazi Party opened fire on marchers demanding economic and racial justice, killing five and wounding 10.

As the hearings opened, Gorrell Pierce, who was the Grand Dragon of the Federated Knights of the KKK in 1979, strode in with a cadre of young white men. African-American community activist and pastor Nelson Johnson, who was wounded in the attack and lost five of his closest friends that day, immediately stood. He walked across the auditorium and made his way down that row of men, shaking every hand and thanking them for coming. Nelson admitted later that it wasn’t his first impulse, but that as a Christian he knew he needed to bring his best self to that encounter and try to reach out to the best self within Pierce. [Sojourners, op cit.]

I want to be like that when I grow up. I want to be so rooted and grounded in love that I can reach across the divide of hatred and sorrow and begin to repair the breaches that, now more than ever, divide our nation. Here on the brink of the inauguration of a new president who comes into office in what is arguably one of the most divided times in our history, how are we to act and to speak in ways that honor the truth but also contribute to reconciliation?

The writer of John’s gospel was well-acquainted with breaches that tore communities apart. His community had been stung and deeply wounded by being thrown out of the synagogues, families split, loved ones betrayed to death, and bitter words used on both sides against the other. John’s language is full of polar opposites-- light and dark, night and day, good and evil, ascending and descending–and his gospel, finely honed after decades of telling the story, living with the message, is carefully constructed with no throw-away lines.

So, when we read in the passage Scott read for us this morning, that "it was about four o’clock in the afternoon" when the two disciples came and saw where Jesus was staying, we would do well to pay attention. What’s up with that–"four o’clock in the afternoon"? Or the 10^th hour, as the Greek says.

One commentator suggests that it’s a tribute to the impact that their meeting of Jesus had on them, like recalling where you were and what time it was when you heard about the planes flying into the Twin Towers. I was at an Interfaith Council meeting at the Baptist Church, and the Methodist minister got a call on his cell phone, which none of the others of us had, about quarter of 10. "It was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon."

Yes. Maybe that is why John included that detail. AND, think about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, particularly at this time of year. It’s still daylight, but twilight is beginning to seep in. For a man who frames his gospel in polar opposites–light vs. dark, day vs. night–4 o’clock in the afternoon is somewhere in the middle. This is when his first disciples began to see where Jesus "was staying," where he "abided," where he remained. That’s another way of saying, "what he was about," "where he was rooted and grounded." "What are you looking for?" Jesus had asked them. They said to him, "Teacher, where are you staying?" He said to them, "Come and see." They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon."

Where are you "staying"? Where do you "abide"? The same can be asked of our church–"Where do we abide? What do we stand for? In what are we rooted and grounded?" In times of violent "back-and-forthing," accusations flying, it’s important to know where we "abide."

On this past New Year’s Eve day, a Watch Night gathering took place in Washington DC’s historic Metropolitan African Methodist Episcopal Church, led by the Rev. William Barber, head of the North Carolina NAACP and the Moral Mondays movement. The gathering, under the auspices of the non-profit group called "Repairers of the Breach, " [from Isiaiah 60] issued a call for a new Poor People’s Campaign, 50 years after Martin Luther King Jr. called for the first one. They issued a call for a moral agenda, a moral revolution of values, demanding policies that are ‘constitutionally consistent, morally defensible, and economically sane." [Religion Dispatches, University of So. Cal., 1/3/17]

This movement is self-consciously NOT characterized as being part of the "religious left," but rather a moral center. Taking part in the gathering were people like the Rev. Dr. James Forbes, formerly the pastor of the Riverside Church in NYC, along with the Imam from the Mosque of the Islamic Brotherhood in New York City, and other leaders of faith communities across the religious spectrum. Group members pledged to use every non-violent means possible to lift up and fight for the rights and well-being of the poor and oppressed minorities. As Rev. Forbes said, "The country can no longer afford to let poverty and bigotry be left out of the indices of success for the nation."

In a letter to President-elect Trump, which I signed in an internet invitation to faith leaders, the group wrote, "Our success [as a nation] is measured by how we welcome the stranger, care for the sick, care for the poor, and care for the hungry in practice and in policy.... We do not believe these are left or right issues. They are right or wrong issues."

"Teacher, where are you staying? Where do you abide?" Where do we abide?

"We live now in extreme times," Martin Luther King Jr. wrote. "The question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love?" The extreme of love is neither to the left or to the right. It is profoundly deep. How deep is our love for one another and for the world? How deeply are we rooted in that love? From that place of deep and abiding love, how will we live our lives? How will we practice love? It will mean interacting with and listening to people with whom we don’t agree. It will mean finding ways to act, yes, but also to speak about love in language that people who don’t "speak church" can understand, using what we might call "secular language." "It was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon," that time of day that includes both light and darkness. What time is it now?

"‘What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb?’ asked Valarie Kaur [at the Night Watch gathering in Washington DC]. ‘What if our America is not dead, but a country that is waiting to be born?’ Like a mother giving birth, she said, we must breathe, and then push. Kaur, a Sikh who said she knows that there will be moments when the ‘brown boy’ she is raising will be seen as foreign or as terrorist, said, ‘Your revolutionary love is the magic we will show our children.’" [Religion Dispatches, op cit.]

Remember that Truth and Reconciliation hearing in Halifax, Nova Scotia I told you about in the beginning? It "culminated in a birthday party for the survivors of residential schools, who as children never had their birthdays acknowledged. Laughter and tears flowed freely [Joyce Hollyday writes] as we shared a thousand cupcakes topped with candles and together sang ‘Happy Birthday’ in Mi’kmaq, Innu, Inuktitut, Tlingit, French, and English. So, [ she says] if you’re tempted to hide in a corner and give in to despair now that the election is over, I’d say throw a party instead. Celebrate the strength that is forged amid challenge and the hope that is reborn in ashes." [Sojourners, op cit.]

Remember that both the darkness of the tomb and the darkness of the womb are oppor-tunities for God to bring new life, in ways beyond our imagination. May we abide in–remain in–be rooted in that Hope. So may we find strength, and courage, wisdom, and even joy, for the living of these days.

Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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"Troubled Waters"- Isaiah 42:1-9, Matthew 3:13-17-- Jan. 8, 2017

It is said that when the reformer Martin Luther was detained for months in Wartberg Castle, in particularly anxious moments he would remind himself, "I am baptized!" to battle back his despair. "I am baptized!" Just as Jesus himself was baptized, named and claimed by God as beloved and pleasing, so we too, when we take on his baptism, are named and claimed by God as beloved and pleasing. It occurred to me that I may need to take on that practice of "remembering my baptism" in these days and months and years to come. Perhaps we all should.

When the news gets more and more bizarre and worrisome, remember your baptism! You are beloved, a precious child of God, beautiful to behold. In a world of fake news and overnight tweets, hold on to that truth. For those of us faced with the changing or declining health of loved ones–or ourselves-- in these next weeks and months, reminding ourselves that "I am baptized" may help to reinforce the claim of Love upon us, even in the face of death and discouragement. As life’s challenges and surprises threaten to knock us off our feet, with job losses, relationship stresses, worries about kids or grandkids, aging parents, or nieces and nephews battling cancer, all those very real aspects of life that are often the furthest things from our minds when we come to baptism as infants or adults–when you are confronted with those challenges, remember your baptism.

Each of the gospels tell us that Jesus was baptized, and, as Biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan says, the fact of Jesus’ baptism was an enormous embarrassment to the early Christian community. Not because it was miraculous, but because it was so ordinary–"the Messiah placing himself under the tutelage of a rabble-rouser like John? A baptism of repentance? What was he doing in that murky water, aligning himself with the great unwashed?" (Cited by Debie Thomas in journeywithjesus, 1/1/17)

Here in Matthew’s account, this is the first time we hear Jesus speak, in this quiet, troubling conversation with John. It is, as one commentator described it, "a paradoxical blend of humility and magnificence." (Troy Miller, cited by K. Matthews in sermonseeds, 1/8/17)

He wanted John to baptize him, Peterson translates. John objected, saying, "I’m the one who needs to be baptized, not you!" But Jesus insisted. "Do it. God’s work, putting things right all these centuries, is coming together right now in this baptism." So John did it. Humility and magnificence.

God’s righteousness is fulfilled in this baptism, Jesus says, God’s work of putting things right. It’s not a word we think of fondly–"righteousness." We often think of it with "self, " as in "self-righteousness," that unbearable holier-than-thou attitude of some. Or "righteousness" makes us think of uptight, obsessive rule-followers, holding out a standard of living that none of us can ever hope to achieve. It’s got shame built into it. It’s a "church-y" kind of word, and not in a good way.

But listen to how both Isaiah and, from there, Jesus use it–here in Isaiah–

"I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness...Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.

God’s "righteousness" for Isaiah and for Jesus is "experienced as compassionate justice and care for those who are poor and/or marginalized...as healing the damage done to the relationship between God and humanity." (K. Matthews, op cit.) The purpose of Jesus, one writer suggests, is revealed in his baptism–"to lay his healing hands upon a broken, alienated world to make it right with God again." (F.D. Lueking, cited in Matthews, op cit.) That’s the "righteousness" that Jesus’ baptism fulfills.

And, in a way, that’s what the baptism of each one of us fulfills. It’s an expression of grace, of the unearned, generous love of God, an affirmation in sign and seal that we are infinitely, eternally loved. The name of each one of us is "Beloved." Marilynne Robinson, author of the best-seller Gilead, among others, writes, "There is a reality in blessing, which I take baptism to be, primarily. It doesn’t enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is power in that." (Cited by Matthews) Our baptism doesn’t make us more holy; it confirms that we already are. In moments when we feel anything but holy, when we feel soiled, or failed, or weak, or rotten, when we feel like a "dimly burning wick" or a "bruised reed," it is especially then when we must "remember our baptism."

Walt Whitman’s poem, which the choir sang earlier for us, speaks in the voice of one who is setting out on the road of life with all the optimism, energy, and enthusiasm of youth. "Afoot and light-hearted, I take to the open road, healthy, free, the world before me....Going where I list, my own master, list’ning to others and consid’ring well what they say, pausing, searching, contemplating, with undeniable will, I inhale great drafts of space; I am much larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness. All seems beautiful to me."

Isn’t that what we hope for the children we bring to be baptized, their whole lives ahead of them? And for youth and adults who come to baptism, we affirm that they too "hold so much goodness." But there is no pouring or stirring of the waters without "troubling" them, as the spiritual says–"God’s gonna trouble the waters." You can’t dip into the font without breaking the surface, disturbing the calm. You certainly can’t fall back beneath the waters of a river or pool without splashing, roiling, upsetting the waters. Built into our baptism is the reality that life will include troubles, challenges, heartache, pain. We will fail. We will be disappointed and hurt. We and our loved ones will get sick. The world will frighten and worry us. We and our loved ones will die. Remember your baptism. Remember that you hold so much goodness, you are beloved, a precious child of God, beautiful to behold. These things happen to us not because we are bad or have done something wrong, but because that is what life includes. Baptism is for life.

There is no magic in baptism. And God’s light and grace and love are not limited to those who are baptized, though the sacrament is one sign among many. There is no magic in baptism or in finding "Epiphany moments," glimpses of God’s light and grace and love, those "thin places," as the Celts call them, where the door between heaven and earth opens. Remem-bering your baptism and perceiving Epiphany moments is a practice, as Debie Thomas puts it. We need to practice claiming our baptism every day–every time you step into the shower and feel the water streaming over you, remember your baptism. "I am beloved." Or when you splash water on your face after you’ve exercised, or after you’ve shaved, remember your baptism. "I am beloved."

The late Biblical scholar Marcus Borg wrote, "Jesus himself is our thin place. He’s the one who opens the barrier and shows us the God we long for. He’s the one who stands in line with us at the water’s edge, willing to immerse himself in shame, scandal, repentance, and pain–all so that we might hear the only Voice that can tell us who we are and whose we are in this sacred season. Listen. We are God’s own. God’s children. God’s pleasure. Even in the deepest water, we are Beloved." [cited by Thomas, op cit.]

This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and this is really good news. Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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"You may have heard..." Early Christmas Eve 2016

"You may have heard this story before. Maybe not. Maybe it has haunted you from the first time you put on a bathrobe and had a towel strapped around your head to be a shepherd in a pageant years ago. Or maybe it’s a new story for you–you may have heard about Jesus and Mary and Joseph somewhere, but who were they? Who are they? You may have heard this story before or maybe not. Hear it again tonight, maybe for the first time. I don’t know if it really happened this way, but I know it is true. And I know that you are part of the story. So, come all you faithful and you doubters and you seekers. Come and listen. Come and sing."

"You may have heard that God is like Santa Claus on steroids–the list God makes, you know the one about who’s naughty and nice, lasts for eternity, you may have heard; God always sees you, knows if you’ve been bad or good and has cooked up all sorts of terrible things to do to the bad people--which is most of us–and prepared an unbelievably wonderful place for the few good people who pass the test. You may have heard that. But I tell you, God is way more than an old man with a beard. God is Energy with Personality, God is Love and Light, God is Justice and Mercy, God is Mystery. And God is always loving you. God created you as a miracle, a hope for the world, just like the baby whose birth we celebrate tonight. God loves you so much that God slips into human skin at every opportunity, to show us what it means to be fully alive, to help each other out, to stand up for each other, to care for the earth, to heal all our brokenness. There is no present like this present moment, when God is waiting to be born in us."

"You may have heard that the people with the real power are the ones in the palaces and towers, the ones who make decrees and issue orders and tweets and proclamations. But I tell you that it is the child who cries in the night to wake his parents, the young writer who creates new pathways for imagination, the teen who immerses herself in music to get inside it and so to allow it to flow in new ways through her, the grad student who invents a machine to sweep plastic from the oceans, the single mother who raises her children to be caring and responsible, the refugee who shows the face of our connectedness, the grandfather who shares his wisdom with troubled youth, the old woman who dies with hope and dignity– these are the ones with the real power to change the world. The rulers of the world have no idea what they’re up against."

"You may have heard that you have to be popular and perfect to get anywhere that matters. But I tell you it was to some of the dirtiest, crummiest, most socially awkward, and frankly, not too bright shepherds that God chose to send that angel choir and announce the birth of the Messiah. Introverts and loners–this is our moment! God can find us wherever we are, minding our own business, and enlist us in the saving of the world. The thing is, like the shepherds, you can’t keep that news to yourself. You’ve got to go and see for yourself, and then you’ve got to tell everyone you meet what you’ve learned. Then you can hole up for a few days to re-group, but don’t forget this is too important to hide your light away. Find some folks who’ll love you and let you speak and act in your own timing. And those of you who love to speak to find out what you’re thinking, and who just love to mix and mingle, we need you too. Find a way to tell the Good News that God hasn’t given up on us, and then allow folks time to absorb it and put it into their own words. You may have heard that you have to popular and perfect to get anywhere that matters, but I tell you God made your true self perfect and unique, and living out of that true self is the surest way to get anywhere that truly matters."

"You may have heard that God sends messiahs and rulers to save us, to take us away from the daily, dirty tasks of life, to lift us above our bodies’ desires into spiritual thoughts, to set us apart from those "others"–the ones who don’t think like us or worship like us or look like us or love like us–but I tell you that this night, God shows us how much God loves these human bodies and how we are to be saved–by allowing God to be born in us, to take our places among the animals and stars, to be humble and wise, to listen to people who don’t have the ear of anyone in any kind of power, to be brave and to travel together. It is by the "holy harmony" that God’s coming makes in you that you shall know the truth of who you are and Whose you are, and the truth shall set you free. He is born this night, and every moment, God is always doing a new, unimaginable thing, longing for us to notice and get onboard. We are the ones God has been waiting for. Let us be born this night as well."

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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Mary's Sermons

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"Sign Posts"-- Isaiah 35:1-10, Matthew 11:2-11-- Dec. 11, 2016

A woman who was cleaning out boxes and closets found her diary from a year that had been particularly hard, full of depression, shame, anxiety, and confusion. As she flipped through the pages she found one on which she had written in big letters– "I WANT MY JOY BACK!" underline, underline, underline. (Elizabeth Gilbert, Facebook post)

"I want my joy back." My guess is there are a lot of us who are saying the same thing this year. There’s a reason we light candles, sing, and gather together this time of year–December is DARK and cold in the Northern Hemisphere! Our culture counteracts by hyping up expectations of happiness found in piles of presents,"glossy, manipulative TV specials," [Katie Hines-Shah, christiancentury, 11/11/16] perfect holiday meals, and blissful family gatherings. With those expectations, it’s no wonder we’re stressed and inevitably disappointed. The turkey is dry, travel to relatives is a hassle, the kids (and we) are over-sugared and under-slept.

The church can add to those disappointments too. We get jazz when we long for Gregorian chant flat–or the other way around–, the sermon is flat or too "woo woo," there aren’t enough kids, the language of the Scripture readings has all been changed, or it hasn’t been changed since the 1600's. We have to sing Advent carols for weeks when we want to sing Christmas carols. I want my joy back.

Of course, in the scheme of things, those are all relatively minor challenges to contend with. Therapists, doctors, and pastors know that this is a tough time of year for lots of people. The loss of loved ones seems particularly painful, as we adjust the number of settings at the table, or remember celebrations of years past. Debt and job loss glare at us. Our aches and pains and infirmities remind us of our mortality.

And 2016 has been a tough year on the political scene. We have all breathed the toxic fumes of hatred, prejudice, fear, accusations, name-calling, predictions of doom. Friends and family members seem like strangers as we occupy opposite political positions. Places of safety and renewing now seem fraught with tension and anxiety, and who knows what the future will bring? I want my joy back.

"The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad," the prophet Isaiah sings, "the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing...A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way." If only we could program "the Holy Way" into our internal GPS and be led step by step to that highway of rejoicing! The question is, though, do we really want to go there?

For the first time in a long time–maybe ever–I read the two chapters just before this 35^th chapter in Isaiah, and I have to say that by the time I got to chapter 35, I heard that good news about the desert blossoming as never before. Isaiah has been talking about utter devastation, about the vengeance of the Lord, about how furious God is with the nations for their faithlessness, their cruelty, their greed, their injustice, their exploitation of the earth. (And who can blame God, then or now?) God will execute a scorched earth policy, Isaiah says, in essence, so that the only inhabitants will be the owls and jackals, and thorns will cover the earth. It’s like one of those dark fairy tales, only who knows where or if the sleeping princess lies amidst the brambles?

"Seek and read from the book of the Lord," Isaiah says. After all this devastation, God will gather together a remnant. And then,

"The wilderness and the dry land shall rejoice...Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God....Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert....A highway shall be there, called the Holy Way...And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."

"In the bleak midwinter," we sing, "heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign..."

I want my joy back.

Just above that scribble "I WANT MY JOY BACK!" the woman saw that she had written, "...for how long?" For how long will this sorrow or frustration or despair or longing or depression last? "How long, O Lord?"

"Are you the one who is to come, or shall we wait for another?" That’s the question that John sent to Jesus from the bleakness of a dark prison cell. "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we wait for another?" It’s heartbreaking to hear John ask that, John who was so convinced out there in the wilderness as he shouted until he was hoarse that God’s anointed one was coming, that the kingdom of God was at hand, that there was the fierce urgency of now. That conviction and courage had compelled John to speak the hard truth to Herod, about his philandering ways, and now here was John squatting in a dank, rat-infested prison cell. "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we wait for another?" How long?

Had John staked his life on the wrong promise, the wrong person? For it certainly seemed as though nothing had changed. Guys like Herod were in office, still on the throne, and people like John were rotting in prison. [Debie Thomas, journeywithjesus, 12/4/16] This servant of God, prophet of the Almighty, who had seemed so full of certainty now seemed so full of doubt. "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we wait for another?"

Jesus doesn’t receive John’s question with judgment or condemnation, though. One commentator says it’s almost relief. "OK, good. You’re willing at last to let go of your preconceptions. You’re ready for the saving work of disillusionment. Now you can get to know me–the real me." [Thomas, op cit.] "Tell him what you’ve seen," he tells John’s messengers. Not some title or slogan or pronouncement, but look at what’s happened, what’s emerging in the lives of ordinary people. Not the fake news, but the real news.

And Jesus says to those around him, "What did you go out into the desert to see, when you went to see the John the Baptist? Someone in soft robes? In other words, a celebrity? They’re in royal palaces, in towers of power. If that’s who you’re seeking, you’ll always be taken in by them and duped. Rather, "this is the one about whom it is written, ‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’" And even the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than this, Jesus said. You can do the same thing. You too can prepare the way of God.

"Are you the one who is to come, or shall we wait for another?" John’s question from prison haunts us. He would soon be killed senselessly from a ridiculous promise of Herod to a woman he was trying to impress, and Jesus too would soon enough be in prison and killed by the powers that be. But John, and maybe Jesus himself, did not know what we know, which is how the story ends–or rather, doesn’t. That the prison cell and the gruesome platter, the cross and the dark tomb do not have the last word, that our stories only find their completion in the presence of God.

I WANT MY JOY BACK. The woman who had scrawled that in her diary recognized it as "a cry of stubborn desire" in the midst of her anger and frustration. It was that stubborn desire for joy that eventually enabled her to scrabble her way out, to recognize what she needed to let go of and what she needed to cling on to.

Martha Beck, author and life coach, says that "the Universe is constantly trying to use your JOY as a way of communicating your destiny to you." She explains:

If you feel a hint of joy, that means you’re on the right track. If not, you’re going in the wrong direction. The scattered moments of joy that you feel in your life are meant to be clues. THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING; THIS IS THE KIND OF PERSON YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE WITH; THIS IS HOW YOU ARE MEANT TO FEEL. [Martha says that] if we refuse to seek joy, believe in joy, trust joy, and follow our joy–then the Universe will resort to using pain and suffering to try to get our attention...but God would really rather communicate your destiny to you through joy. So try that first. Look for crumbs of joy, and trust them. [Elizabeth Gilbert, FB]

Look for crumbs of joy. Remember that joy isn’t that trivial, glittery stuff that advertisers would lead you to believe can be bought. My teacher Tal Ben-Shahar says that joy is the intersection of deep pleasure and deep meaning. John the Baptist knew something hard and flinty about joy, left behind all the trappings of what passed for joy in his culture, and, we

believe, at last was received into the Presence of Joy and Love.

The One who did come, and who is always coming into the world, knew that the only joy worth reaching for, worth giving your life for, is God’s joy–that "God’s joy and our well-being are interconnected" [Bruce Epperly, Adventurous Lectionary, 12/16], that there are, indeed, crumbs of joy strewn along our path, if we would only notice them and take them in–the touch of a loved one’s hand, the face of a child caught up in wonder, the company of loving friends, burying your face into the neck of a dog, the smell of balsam, the satisfaction of service, the thrill of doing a random act of kindness, savoring small bites of delicious food, listening to or making music that feeds your soul.

I WANT GOD’S JOY!–which is my true joy. May that be all we really want for Christmas this year. So may we find it. Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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Advent, the season leading up to Christmas may be an invitation to awaken from our numbed endurance and our domesticated expectations, to consider our life afresh in light of new gifts that God is about to give..." Be ready at any moment for God to appear in your life as inspiration, opportunity, insight, person, possibility.
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Our church's banner photo (above) is of the snowflakes (each one unique just as people are) and the trees... all made by Barbara true-Weber and other creative people of our church especially for Advent 2016. Advent, the season leading up to Christmas, is "an invitation to awaken from our numbed endurance and our domesticated expectations, to consider our life afresh in light of new gifts that God is about to give..." Be ready at any moment for God to appear in your life as inspiration, opportunity, insight, person, possibility.

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"Eating from the Jesse Tree"- Isaiah 11:1-10, Matthew 3:1-12-- Dec. 4, 2016

If only the landscape weren’t so familiar–a clear-cut mountain side, a battlefield strewn with bodies and smoldering equipment, whole neighborhoods left in nothing but rubble. Or that all too familiar political landscape–never-ending bickering and name-calling, deadlocked legislative bodies, deals and lining pockets leaving the real issues of communities untouched. Or the devastation of interior landscapes–the house after she’s left, the silence after he died, the ominous dark and density of depression, the relentlessness of pain.

2700 years ago Isaiah looked upon the landscape of his country with utter frustration and disgust, his fellow "prophets," if you could call them that, spouting lies and silliness, the kings of Judah worthless, and the Empire of Assyria looming at the border. Surely God was dismayed at the faithlessness of those who were supposed to be "God’s people." Surely this was not what God intended, this was not God’s dream for the people of Judah or the earth.

So, as he did in times of distress and despair, Isaiah went deep. Got still. Listened. Searched his heart and the landscape of his mind. And at last, he heard the melody.

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear. But with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins. The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hold of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.

"A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots."

It’s a rather strange image of hope to offer to a people in utter discouragement and devastation.

It had been 200 years since the death of King David, that ruler that Judah seemed to refer to as the model, the beloved king, yet Isaiah remembers the mixed record of King David, with his seductions, his betrayals, his wars, his infidelities. There was no "golden time" before. Judah doesn’t need another king like that. Maybe, Isaiah dreams, God will bring another shoot from Jesse–a new and better ruler, one with qualities that God longs for in a ruler–"a fearsome knowledge of Yahweh, extraordinarily discerning wisdom, unbending counsel, this one’s strength in words of truth and power." [John Holbert, patheos, 12/8/13] I found myself won-dering if there might have been a daughter of Jesse, not just all the sons who were paraded in front of the prophet Samuel to be anointed king. After all, it is through the mother that Jewish lineage is traced, though you’d never know it from the Bible. I couldn’t even find the name of David’s mother in the Bible, and as it turns out, it isn’t in there. It’s in the Talmud, though, the accumulated commentary by the rabbis of Torah, and there it says that David’s mother was Nitzeyet, daughter of Adael. You learn something new every day. Anyway, it’s a little diversion –a daughter from the stump of Jesse-- but then, who knows where Hope will come from?

"A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots." A strange image. So often we think of shoots sticking out of stumps as "suckers" and do our best to seal them off. It’s hard to feel confident in a future that comes from a sucker. It sounds like a loser. We prefer winners.

A shoot is a fragile thing, vulnerable to cold snaps, or being hit too hard, or not enough moisture. Vulnerable to death, in other words. We know that branches grow at their edges, at their ends, and a stump–without leaves to process their chlorophyll–seems like a dead end, literally. But it’s been discovered that the roots of trees that grow near each other are so intertwined that any who do have leaves, produce the chlorophyll and energy that is shared through the roots. The community of trees literally keeps its members alive.

"A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord–the breath or wind of God–shall blow over and rest on this one, the spirit/breath/wind of wisdom and understanding, the spirit/breath/wind of counsel and might, the spirit/breath/wind of knowledge and the fear of the Lord."

Back in the 1990's, there was an experiment called the Biodome, which attempted to make a totally self-contained biological environment. One of the baffling disappointments was the trees. They had sunlight, water, nutrients, but they didn’t stand tall. They flopped over. As it turns out, the missing element was wind. Trees actually need wind occasionally to blow and create microcracks in their trunks and branches. Just like bones, that are stronger where they’ve been stressed or broken, so trees need the stress of wind. "We actually need storms in life," as one preacher put it. [Rev. Whitney Rice, sermonsthatwork, 2 Advent 2013] "The spirit/breath/wind of the Lord shall blow over and rest on this one," Isaiah wrote, this branch from Jesse’s tree.

And it won’t be just the human population who will be transformed, led in a new way by this little one, this leader of wisdom and understanding, compassion and counsel. The whole of creation will be transformed. The rule and order of nature will be changed and overturned .

The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.

This is indeed a new kind of peace. When the leopard lies down with the kid, that baby goat’s not going to get much sleep, we think. What happens when the more powerful of these pairs gets hungry? Will the lion really be satisfied eating straw? This time of peace or shalom "is creation time," writes Walter Brueggemann, "when all God’s creation eases up on hostility and destruction and finds another way of relating." [cited by Kate Huey in sermonseeds, 12/7/13]

Can we imagine a new kind of peace, along with a new kind of ruler?

It’s a dream of an impossible possibility, as Bruce Epperly puts is, of enemies becoming companions, children safe from harm, wise national leadership, a world without war. It has never happened, but it still judges the world, it is still the ideal, the goal toward which any and all of our endeavors must reach. [Bruce Epperly, Adventurous Lectionary, 12/4/16] Indeed, we still long for it, still sing Isaiah’s song every Advent –"When God is a child there’s joy in our song, the last shall be first, and the weak shall be strong, and none shall be afraid...."

A shoot shall come out of the stump of Jesse... It will not happen overnight. It is a fragile beginning, but each of us has a stake in tending to it, we each have a role in bringing this shoot to branch to bud to blossom, so that we may eat of its fruit. Every child is potentially that leader. What was said to John the Baptist as an infant by his dead stump of a father Zechariah might be said to every new-born–"And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go to prepare God’s ways..." Align with those ways, that child-become-man cried out in the wilderness. Live into the dream God has for us. Repent. Prepare ye the way!

You know the dream. Sing it with me. "When God is a child, there’s joy in our song. The last shall be first, and the weak shall be strong. And none shall be afraid." (Brian Wren)

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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