“Brave and Exhausted: Esther”

Esther 4:10-17

Sunday, October 28, 2018
First Congregational United Church of Christ of Manhattan, KS

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

At the last UCC General Synod in Baltimore, I had the opportunity to hear Glennon Doyle speak. Doyle is a member of Naples UCC in Naples, Florida and, like many of us in the UCC, she’s a bit difficult to put into a box of any kind. She’s a writer, a speaker, a theologian, an activist, and runs a huge charity that meets people’s basic needs ANY advocates for changing systems. She’s been active in anti-racism work, immigration work, LGBTQ issues and more. She’s the mom of three kids and is married to soccer superstar Abby Wambach. She also speaks openly about her struggles with mental illness, addiction, and bulimia.

At General Synod, she opened her remarks by sharing reflections on the first story she learned from the Bible as a child. I’m paraphrasing here from the notes I took. Doyle said,

“The first story I learned as a child about God and women is this:
In the beginning, God created a boy. And everything was perfect. And then the boy gave birth to a girl and everything was perfect.

But then the woman wanted something. And she took it and all hell broke loose and she broke the world.

Women are told that if we want anything, we will break the world. I mean, all Eve wanted was an apple. What if she had wanted a slice of pizza?

We have been told to disappear. The greatest compliment a woman can receive is to be selfless. To literally make her self disappear.”

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Doyle’s observations these past couple of years as I’ve watched women’s pain and anger unleashed on a massive scale in our society. Women mourning the loss of the dream of finally having a President that looks like them. Women showing up in record numbers to run for public office. Women telling their stories of harassment and assault - putting themselves at great risk in doing so. Women crying and raging as they wonder what life will be like after Roe v Wade. Women with their hearts broken open at the idea of children being separated from their parents and housed in cages. Women pushing and never giving up as they struggle against gun violence. Women crying out that Black Lives Matter, water is life, and trans rights are human rights.

Women are taking up a lot of space these days. Joined by people of all genders they are not sitting down or keeping quiet. They are asking for a whole lot more than a little apple and they aren’t apologizing for it either.

I’ve been thinking about these fierce women leaders as I sit on the sidelines of my son’s soccer games this fall. This past Monday I hope that several of you had a chance to hear Tarana Burke, the founder of the #metoo movement, when she spoke at K-State. I had to miss it because I had a championship parks and rec soccer game to attend. Some of the toughest and most skilled players on my son’s soccer team are girls. I love to watch them take up space. They kick and push and run with serious skills. As I watch them I hope and pray that these early experiences of strength will inoculate them against all the messages they are also receiving from society - sit down, be quiet, don’t make a scene, don’t inconvenience other people, take up less space, disappear.

It’s so important that kids of every gender get to play together on one team. They learn to work together as a unit. They learn to depend on one another and see each other as allies in a common cause. You know, I didn’t realize this until I was a parent just how obsessed we are with dividing kids up into “boys” and “girls” in our culture. Not just in terms of who supposedly likes what or which clothes are for who...but even among preschoolers activities and teams are divided by gender. It’s hard to find spaces where kids of all genders can work together as a team. And I can imagine it’s even more problematic for kids who exist outside the bounds of the arbitrary gender binary we’ve created.

The world needs a lot more all-gender soccer teams. And a lot more Glennon Doyles unpacking the problems in how our sacred texts have been taught. The world needs a lot more Tarana Burkes working tirelessly to empower survivors of assault and harassment.

You know what else the world needs? A lot more Christians who know the sacred stories of people like Esther and Ruth and Miriam and Shiphra and Puah and Tamar and Sophia and Junia and Euodia and Synchyte.

The story of Esther is one of transformation. Born into a world where girls and women were considered to be the actual property of men, Esther was incredibly vulnerable from the beginning. We are told that she was an orphan, which means, right away, she had no protectors. Fortunately, a cousin named Mordecai took her into his household to care for her.

The Hebrew verb for “take” is prominently featured in the early part of Esther’s story. She is taken into Mordecai’s home. She is taken from Mordecai and delivered to the palace where she is taken to the king. Eventually, she is taken as the king’s wife. [1]

So many things happen TO Esther. She is, at first, a fairly one-dimensional character. A vulnerable but lucky orphan, beautiful and compliant. It seems that she is everything Queen Vashti was not - she knows how to play the palace games, she knows she must come to the king when called, she knows she’s not supposed to make waves.

But this is not a fairytale and I want us to imagine for a minute what we also know to be true about Esther. We know that she was a young woman who had gone through immense trauma. Orphaned….and then taken from the only family she had ever known to live with a bunch of complete strangers as a part of the king’s harem. And while a part of the king’s harem, she had a secret that she knew she had to keep: she wasn’t to tell anyone she was a Jew for fear of retaliation. We don’t know how young she was when all of this happened, but we know she was still just a girl. Esther had to navigate things no child should have to understand. Esther was a survivor.

If we look at Queen Esther through a trauma-informed lens, we know that she had likely developed lots of coping techniques to continue navigating her life. So it comes as no surprise to me that when Mordecai asks her to intervene on behalf of the Jewish people - to use her position of influence and act as a superhero - she wants no part of it. Mordecai asks her to intervene and she responds with a litany of the rules. She has learned how to keep herself safe. She know that the rule is you only go to the king when called. You do not initiate contact. To do so is to risk death.

Mordecai presses on, trying to convince her that she must act. He says, “Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for such a time as this.”

You know, I’ve always heard this story through a kind of Wonder Woman lens. Esther, brave and strong, realizes that she is destined to be the savior of her people and courageously steps forward to lead the way.

But Esther’s bravery and strength is not borne of hubris or a savior-complex. Instead, her strength comes from a life of surviving a million little traumas and pain. She has learned to push forward even when things are difficult because life has often been difficult. And, if we read Mordecai’s words carefully, we also see that her decision to act is perhaps not so much about saving the day as it is a resigned understanding of what options are available to her.

As a Jewish woman living in the palace on the eve of a mass, state-sanctioned genocide, her options are incredibly limited. She can either do nothing, which means she will probably eventually be killed along with all the other Jews or she can take a huge risk and fight for her people….which might still get her killed….or might lead to a happier ending.

Esther, who has had a lifetime of practice at doing hard things, decides she’ll take the chance. Maybe she does it because she’s feeling like Wonder Woman. Or maybe she does it because if you’re likely to get killed you might as well die trying to do the right thing. Maybe she’s incredibly brave. Maybe she’s incredibly exhausted. Most likely she’s both.

At the end of chapter four, Esther is transformed from a woman whose life is governed by passive verbs into a leader who starts giving orders to the men who surround her. We are told, “Mordecai then went away and did everything as Esther had ordered him.”

A few years ago I was talking with a therapist who said to me, “You know, I’ve discovered over the years that adults who grew up in trauma - children who had a high number of what we call Adverse Childhood Experiences - often become remarkably strong adults. I don’t quite know what the magical formula is, but I have observed that sometimes these kids who have had a really difficult childhood become adults who are amazingly strong, working tirelessly to advocate for other people, trying to save others from some of the pain their experienced in their own lives.”

I think we probably all know adults like that, don’t we? People who are strong not because they’ve always had it easy, but because they’ve mostly had it hard. People like Esther who are able to to extraordinarily brave things not because they are fearless, but because they have had lots of practice putting one foot in front of the other even when they are terrified.

These people are superheroes, for sure, but they don’t always wear capes. They walk among us each and every day and we often have no clue. Some of these superheroes even live within us and we don’t realize it. We don’t realize the strength we’ve built through overcoming adversity or surviving abuse and trauma. We may not realize how chronic mental or physical illness has shaped us in positive ways, in additions to the challenges it presents.

Like Esther, we may have lived lives that are no fairytale. And, like Esther, we each have unique gifts and strength because of the way our lives have unfolded. We are each made in God’s image - people of every gender, ethnicity, race, ability. We are beautiful and strong not in SPITE of who we are or what has happened to us but BECAUSE of it.

Glennon Doyle said at General Synod, “We try to protect our children from the one thing that will make them the people we want them to be. We want to protect them from pain. We become experts in avoiding the fire, but we ought to want to raise citizens who run to the fire. We want to raise the fire crew." [3]

When fires rage, when pain is unavoidable, when superheroes are needed, may we all find the strength and courage to dig deep and know that God goes with us...even into the scary places, even into the most difficult situations.

God called the world into being from nothing. And God is still calling forth a new world of justice and peace through prophets and preachers, healer and teachers. Who knows? Perhaps we were all born into God’s holy realm for such a time as this.

NOTES:

[1] With thanks to Wendy Amsellem for pointing out the use of “taken” again and again in Esther’s story. https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/vashti-esther-a-feminist-perspective/

[3] http://www.ucc.org/news_gs_a_conversation_with_glennon_doyle_07012017

“Resisting Empire: Mordecai”

Esther 2:5-11

Sunday, October 21, 2018
First Congregational United Church of Christ of Manhattan, KS

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

A Wrinkle in Time almost never happened. Madeleine L’Engle’s now-classic novel, originally published in 1963, was rejected 26 times before someone finally said, “You know, I think we should publish this!” No one knew quite what to do with a science fiction novel, written by a woman, with a teenage girl as the protagonist. Publishers weren’t sure if the book was for children or adults. They didn’t believe children could handle a book that dealt with Evil head on...and they didn’t think adults would want to read a book primarily about children.

L’Engle said she never really understood the difference between books for children and adults, anyway. “People underestimate children,” she once said. “They think you have to write differently. You don’t. You just have to tell a story.” [1]

I loved this story as a child AND as an adult. Every few years I go on a L’Engle spree and re-read all of the books in the series. One of the scenes that still gives me chills is the scene where Meg, Calvin, and Charles Wallace arrive on Camazotz. They have gone to this alien world to rescue Meg and Charles Wallace’s father.

Shortly after arriving, they find themselves in an odd neighborhood. All of the houses look the same and, in front of each house, stand children who are bouncing balls and skipping rope. With a shiver, Charles Wallace notices that all of the children are bouncing their balls and skipping their ropes to the same rhythm. When one little boy accidentally drops his ball, his mother comes outside and quickly whisks the boy inside, hoping no one saw his mistake. The protagonists from Earth try to return the ball to him but his mother, visibly shaken, says, “Oh no! The children in our section never drop balls. They’re all perfectly trained. We haven’t had an Aberration for three years.” [2]

Charles Wallace turns to his big sister as they leave the neighborhood. “What are they afraid of? What’s the matter with them?” [2]

The people of Camazotz live in what biblical scholar Walter Brueggeman would call “ideological totalism.” A state where there is only one right way for everything. A society where creativity is muzzled and dissent is suppressed. This is a place of Empire. And Brueggemann has a lot to say about Empire.

Empire is the system where the primary goal of leaders is simply to maintain power. All decisions are made with the aim of consolidating, expanding and retaining power. The economy is one of “extraction,” Brueggeman says. A system where resources are taken from those who live at the bottom of society and ruthlessly sucked up into the upper echelons.

A place where Kings and those close to them throw parties that last for months on end. A place where slavery and abuse is rampant. A place where women must come when called. A place where children are ripped from their parents. A place where men must be “masters in their own homes.” A place where any dissent, no matter how small, puts authorities on high alert and can have grave consequences for those who don’t fall in line.

You may recognize Empire from the pages of the Book of Esther. You may also recognize Empire in places a little closer to home.

Walter Brueggemann speaks of the ways Empire demands absolute intolerance of alternative ways of being, doing, living. In a state of ideological totalism, there is only one rhythm guiding the bouncing of balls and skipping of ropes. Anything outside that one way regiseres as a threat. [3]

Brueggeman names that this intolerance is enforced by the militarization of many aspects of a society. Setting his sights on contemporary culture in the U.S. he cites the militarization of police and sports as symptoms of Empire among us. He says, “It turns out that the NFL is really the great military liturgy. And now at NFL football games, the announcer says, ‘Please stand, and place your hand on your heart.’ It's a kind of coerced patriotism.” [4]

It is the job of the Church, Brueggemann says, to walk in the ways of Jesus - that great prophet who imagined other ways of living, who acted out alternatives to Empire. But we have to know that if we take seriously this work of walking in Jesus’s ways, there will be consequences. Just look at Colin Kaepernick, Brueggemann says, and you’ll quickly see that “the system is ready to ruthlessly silence” anyone who refuses to stand on command, shut up when shushed, perform just so, skip rope to the right rhythm. [5]

Last week we explored the character of Queen Vashti in the Book of Esther. She was certainly one who refused to skip rope to the rhythm of Empire. This week we are focusing on Mordecai, who - quite literally - refused to bow to Empire.

After Queen Vashti is deposed for her refusal to perform for the drunken King, we are introduced to the character of Mordecai. The text tells us several important things about Mordecai by way of introduction. 1) He is a Jew, living in Susa...which means his is a religious and ethnic minority, 2) he is the descendant of those who were forcibly removed from their homeland during the time of King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylonia...which means he is the descendent of refugees, 3) he adopted his cousin, Esther, when her parents died...which means he has spent his life living in close proximity to and protecting an orphan. And you can’t read too much of the Bible without realizing that orphans often stand as a symbol for all who are cast aside and vulnerable.

So just in this brief introduction, we come to understand that Mordecai knows a thing or two about what it means to live as an outsider under Empire. When the King’s men come to round up all the beautiful young girls in the Empire to audition for the role of queen, Mordecai learns about another facet of living under Empire. His cousin, Esther, who he has raised as his own child, is taken from him. And there’s nothing he can do about it.

And so Mordecai does what desperate people craving justice often do….he shows up. Again and again. Coming as close as he is allowed to the power center of Empire,  we are told he “sits at the king’s gate” day after day. We are told that every day he comes to see how Esther is faring. And we are told that he gave her one piece of advice before she was taken from him: do not let anyone know that you are a Jew. Hide, he says. Protect yourself.

One day, as Mordecai is hanging around the palace he overhears two of the King’s guards conspiring to assassinate the King. Now, one might think that Mordecai, being an unlikely ally of the King, might just turn his head the other way and ignore the plot. Let it unfold as it will.

But….he makes a different choice. We are not told his motivations for intervening.

Perhaps he simply doesn’t believe anyone deserves to be murdered. Perhaps he is planning ahead and hoping to give Esther more bargaining power in the future. Or maybe he realizes that truth that so many resisters-of-Empire know: that evil forces do not simply reside in the person at the top. And the removal of one person rarely changes an Empire. It simply creates a vacuum for another person to ascend to the top….and that person is likely to come with many of the same problems as the person before. Empire has a way of perpetuating corrupt and careless leaders.

Mordecai is one who makes careful choices. Cautioning Esther to stay quiet about her identity. Saving the king’s life. Giving Esther one of the most inspirational pep talks of all time when their backs are against the wall.

But Mordecai is not some one-dimensional character in a fairytale, either. He makes choices that are fraught, too. His head is put on a literal chopping block when he refuses to bow to the King’s right hand man, Haman. If Mordecai had just bowed, just kept his head down, perhaps Haman wouldn’t have turned against all the Jews in the first place, right? It’s easy to question someone else’s motives. How many times have you heard someone say (or maybe you’ve even thought to yourself), “Well, I agree with with Colin Kaepernick is saying, but I wish he would SAY it in a different way.” Just as there are some who wish Kaepernick would stand, I’m sure there were many who were shocked and dismayed when Mordecai refused to bow.

Interestingly, the Book of Esther is not one of those books that gets wrapped up with a neat-and-tidy bow at the end. It is not one of those books where the “good guys” are blameless, either. Because what Mordecai and Esther do once they come into power is distressing. Rather than simply calling off the genocide previously planned by Haman...rather than simply protecting their people, they encourage massive revenge. Tens of thousands of people are killed at the end of this book - one side unleashing violence on the other. THAT part never gets read in church but you can read it yourself in chapters 9 and 10.

And so, the choices Mordecai makes as he navigates his position within Empire are not so easy to deify or vilify. They are as complex as he is. I am left puzzled at the end of this book….only not SO puzzled. Because I, too, have seen how living within the ways of Empire can breed hate. I know that a lifetime of fear can create the desire for revenge.

Into these places where the values of Empire seem to have the final say, I believe the Spirit is still whispering visions of another way.

The one we call Jesus came - following in the footsteps of so many prophets who came before - breathing new life into places where Empire rules with an iron fist.

God beckons us to imagine a different world. A realm of love, equality, justice, peace. A realm where the last are first...and no lamb is insignificant enough that she can be lost. A realm where no one is outside, because Jesus always sets a place for those we’d perhaps rather not dine with. A realm where children skip rope to the beat of their own hearts and no one lives in fear.

We haven’t made it there quite yet, but we see glimpses of it from time to time...and we continue to hold God’s vision in our mind’s eye. We continue to have a “sense of being otherwise” as Bruggemann would say. [6] We have not yet succumbed to Empire completely, and I believe we never will.

May it be so.

NOTES:

[1] https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/beloved-baffling-wrinkle-time-was-rejected-26-publishers-180961227/#OtwLu1j5q5o0P2u8.99

[2] L’Engle, Madeleine. A Wrinkle in Time. P. 103-106 in the Dell Publishing version, 21st edition.

[3, 4, 5, 6]  https://sojo.net/articles/walter-brueggemann-jesus-acted-out-alternative-empire

“Resisting Empire: Queen Vashti Refuses”

Esther 1:5-12

Sunday, October 14, 2018
First Congregational United Church of Christ of Manhattan, KS

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away from here in time and space, but, perhaps not-so-very-far-away-from-here in spirit and sort, there was a King named Ahasuerus. He was kind of a big deal. The Book of Esther tells he us was king of the 127 provinces of the Persian Empire, stretching all the way from India to Ethiopia.

The Rev. Kaji Douša has this to say about King Ahasuerus:

You may not know his name, but,
oh, you know him.

The kind of man so
filled with entitlement that he would
order [his wife] to interrupt her important work and
Enter a den of drunkards with their ogling eyes.

The kind of man so accustomed to
accessing a woman’s body that
when she refused,

he was so overcome with rage that he
punished her brutally. [1]

This kind of man doesn’t only exist in long ago, far away places, does he?

Well, in those days, as King Ahasuerus sat on his big, important throne in his winter palace in Susa, he was still a baby king in some ways. Just three years into his reign. And the king was doing what those who rule Empire love to do….relax, throw a party, let the wine flow freely, invite all the important people, remind them of their place in the pecking order, show off.

And this...this was quite a party. It went on for, we are told, “many days, one hundred and eighty days in all.” After the six-month-long party, the King gave a second party for everyone in the citadel. And this was also a big party. “Drinks were served in golden goblets,” the text says. “Goblets of different kinds, and the royal wine was lavished according to the bounty of the king. Drinking was by the jug-full, without restraint.”

This party was a party just for men. We know this because we are told there was a second party next door, a party for women, hosted by Queen Vashti. That’s the important work that the King interrupted when he demanded her presence. She was doing her duty as host, welcoming guests into the royal palace.

So on the seventh day of this party, when the king is good and drunk, he calls together his eunuchs and orders them to bring the Queen to him. To the party with all the drunk men. To the party where there are, presumably, no women present. The king wants to show her off like the prize piece of property that she is. He even goes so far to tell her what she should wear for the show:

Her crown.

A brief word about how this is all supposed to work, because it’s not what most of us are accustomed to. The king had many women at his disposal. The Queen, yes, but also a whole harem of other women to choose from. These women, including the Queen, lived mostly in their own world, apart from the king and the minions of Empire.

The men they interacted with most often were the eunuchs - men who, for whatever reason, were found to be uninterested in stealing the king’s property, i.e. the women. The eunuchs acted as the go-between for these two separate worlds. And when the king decided he wanted to see a certain woman, his wife or one of his many other options, he sent a eunuch to fetch her.

The woman’s job was clearly defined. She was to say yes. Every time. No exceptions. In fact, I’m fairly certain the yes wasn’t even expected. Saying no was such an impossibility, such an unheard of thing, that yes wasn’t even required. When the eunuch comes for you, you fix your face and go to the king. That’s the only option.

Until.

The drunk king called for Queen Vashti, his wife, to show her off to his buddies. Wearing her crown.

And, the text says this: “Queen Vashti refused.”

She said no.

From her “no” flows the entirety of the Book of Esther, which we are going to be studying together for the next three weeks. Vashti’s “no” sets the stage for all of the “yeses” that Esther will be uttering soon...and we’re going to get to those in future weeks. But before we do, I want to sit for just today with this woman named Vashti who refused.

What happened after she says no? We are told that the king was enraged. I think we can all picture it, can’t we? For, as Rev. Douša pointed out, we’ve all known men like King Ahasuerus, haven’t we? We can see the creased forehead, the eyebrows knit together in rage. We can see the blood rising, the heart pounding, the sweat dripping as he slams down his cup, punches a hole in the wall, lets loose a string of words that I certainly won’t be saying from this pulpit.

We know what it looks like when a man who never hears no is told “no,” don’t we?

Interestingly, this big-little king….ruling an Empire so large, yet still so new to his job, seems to need a lot of advice. He does nothing on his own. He is the one with all the power, yet he is not a decisive leader with vision. He is a playboy whose only real goal seems to be making himself look good. Retaining his status as the head of his Empire is his only concern.

So he calls together his advisors and asks them how to respond. How to save face after such a public embarrassment. The advisors have a quick response (those who give advice to Kings seem to always know their next move). And what they want is to make sure this doesn’t get out of hand.

For, you see, Queen Vashti’s decision to refuse the king wasn’t just a little tiff between husband and wife. It’s seen as something far more sinister.

Because if the queen can disobey the king then we’re going to have a real problem here, fellas. Before you know it, every woman in the Empire is going to think that she can disobey HER husband. She’s going to think she can tell him to make his own sandwich. She’s going to start talking about consent and female empowerment and having autonomy over her own body.

This won’t do.

And not just because all the men want their wives to obey them. But there’s an even bigger problem that could be disastrous for the entire Empire and it’s this: once people from one oppressed group start questioning the order of things, once they start saying no, the whole house of cards is going to fall.

It may start with the women, but soon it’ll be the enslaved people working in the fields, the paupers without a penny to their name, the immigrants who don’t speak the right language or celebrate the right holidays. The last will be first, the first will be last. Before you know it we’re going to have a mass mutiny on our hands because:

Empire only works when people believe the lie that some people are worth more than others.

If a resistor takes aim at one form of oppression, it’s really an assault on the whole enterprise. Because:

Empire only works when interlocking systems of oppression support one another.

So the men tell the king that he has to act swiftly and decisively. “Send out a decree to the whole kingdom,” they say, “Let them know that you’ve done away with Queen Vashti and that all women everywhere must honor their husbands, high and low alike. Remind them that every man should be master in his own house. By doing so, you protect your own vast Empire.”

And so the decree is made. And we don’t ever learn what exactly happens to Queen Vashti. She is cast aside. There are real costs for resisting Empire, you know.

For the next two weeks in worship we’ll learn from two other characters in the Book of Esther - Mordecai, who works and strategizes behind-the-scenes with his cousin, Esther, who succeeds Vashti as queen. Both Mordecai and Esther and walk a tightrope as outsiders who suddenly find themselves with access to those who run the show.

Each resists in their own way. Each has something to teach us. Because, as the book of Esther reminds us, there isn’t just one “right” way to resist Empire. Pushing back against those who oppress, imprison, injure, manipulate, cast aside, is an all-hands-on-deck enterprise. Resisting successfully requires us to bring the fullness of our creativity and focus to the work at hand.

As we learn from Vashti, Mordecai, and Esther, may our ears and minds and hearts be open to the movement of the Spirit in this story from a long-ago-and-far-away place that’s not so unfamiliar to us after all.

[1] https://www.parkavenuechristian.com/say-her-name-by-the-rev-kaji-dousa/

“Friendship 101: Lessons in What (Not) to Do from the Book of Job”

Job 1:1, 2:1-10

Sunday, October 7, 2018
First Congregational United Church of Christ of Manhattan, KS

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

I want to preface this morning’s sermon by addressing a question you might have as you’re looking at the sermon title. “Is she really going to preach on friendship 101? Today? Doesn’t she know that many of us are worried that the whole world is going to hell in a handbasket?” Yes. I know many of us are worried about the state of democracy. I’ve been doubling-down this past week on the spiritual practices that sustain me in challenging times and I’ve been cursing the patriarchy and white supremacy and xenophobia and fear.

And, yes, I am still going to preach on friendship. Because I believe that difficult times call for a focus on things that matter. And I believe there are few things in life more holy in this world than friendship. I believe we worship a God who created us for love and I believe what the world needs right now is people who are willing to wage kindness each and every day and focus relentlessly on loving God and our neighbor as ourselves. And so, yes. I am going to preach a sermon on friendship.

The Book of Job opens like this: the heavenly beings are bored and the Adversary and God get into an argument about a man named Job, who is righteous and blameless. The Adversary sees an opportunity to have a little fun and says to God, “Well, of course he’s a nice guy. You’ve been protecting him. We’d all be nice if our lives were perfect like Job’s. But I’d be willing to wager that if things started to go poorly for your friend Job he’d start singing a different tune.”

And, just like that, the stage is set for Job’s torture. The answer to that ancient question, “why do bad things happen to good people?” is this: “Because the heavenly beings thought it would be interesting.”

Not a great answer, from my perspective. I find the entire book of Job so very troubling. This poor man. He loses everything...his livestock, his home, all of his beloved children. And all because of a cosmic bet.

For 40+ chapters we watch Job receive terrible counsel from his “friends” and argue with God. In the end, we’re meant to believe that there’s a happy ending. Because Job learns humility and learns to trust that this very mean God has his best interests at heart, he gets everything back. All’s well that ends well….I guess?

I have to say, although I don’t find particularly helpful answers to the question of why bad things happen to good people in this story, I do at least appreciate that it’s in the Bible. It gives me some comfort to know that people have been struggling with this question forever. And, in a weird way, I find it reassuring to know that even the people who wrote these stories and canonized them into our holy scriptures couldn’t answer the question fully.

Another thing about this book that I find to be immensely helpful is that it’s a crash course in how to be a good friend. Or, perhaps more accurately, the Book of Job shows us what NOT to do.

Even a cursory skim through the text reveals an immediate problem with Job’s three friends. There are TOO MANY WORDS. Like, WAY too many words. Anyone who has ever been going through hell and back knows that the last thing you want when your life is wrecked is a friend who shows up to deliver a speech. Especially an esoteric philosophical discourse. NOT HELPFUL.

They start out strong. The three friends come to Job and sit with him for a full week, “and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was great.” But then they do what so many of us are tempted to do when things are terrible. They start trying to FIX IT, explain it away: “God’s ways are not our ways. Whatever is happening is God’s will and even though we don’t understand it, it’s for the best.” And also, “Job, you must have done something wrong. Search your heart. Figure out what your sins are. Confess them to God and then everything will get better.”

You’ve heard these speeches before, right? When a person loses a child: “I guess God needed another angel in heaven.” When someone receives a brutal diagnosis: “God won’t give you more than you can handle.” When someone is assaulted: “Maybe next time you’ll remember the buddy system.”

How can we avoid heaping on MORE pain when someone we love is already hurting? Well, there’s not a one-size-fits-all answer but here are a few suggestions:

First, if you’ve not read about the “ring theory” coined by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman, I encourage you to Google it. [1] The short version is this: when something terrible happens to someone, they are at the center of a series of concentric rings. The next people out are immediate family, extended family, close friends; acquaintances, colleagues, neighbors. The person in the center gets to complain as much as they want to anyone else. And the people who are on the next ring out will also be struggling because it’s a lot to support the person in the center. They also get to ask for support...but only to people further out. The rule is, “Comfort in, dump out.” When we are trying to be a good friend in the midst of a difficult time, it’s important to be mindful of where we are located in this series of rings.

Second, when we offer support, do it in a concrete way. Instead of saying, “Let me know if I can do anything to help,” try, “I’d like to bring you dinner. How about Tuesday?” We should always allow refusal, but it’s better to ask them to opt OUT instead of IN because it’s so hard for most of us to admit needing help.

Regardless of whether you know how to be practically helpful, don’t turn away. Even when you’re worried you might say the wrong thing or don’t know what to say, show that you care in some way. Send a note in the mail. Leave a message and make it clear they don’t need to call you back. Tell them you’d like to come visit. You can sit and say nothing. Turn on the TV and stare at it silently. Just be. Together.

In a world where so very much seems to be out of our control, making the daily decision to show up for those who are hurting is a heroic act. When things get hard, we sometimes want to turn inward. And there are certainly times where we all need some space.

But we humans are made for community. We are made for love and friendship and care. When we show up for each other, there is nothing sweeter. When we get it wrong, the Holy whispers words of grace to us, encouraging us to try again tomorrow.

Learning to be a good friend may time a whole lifetime….and every moment we spend practicing is time well-spent.

[1] http://articles.latimes.com/2013/apr/07/opinion/la-oe-0407-silk-ring-theory-20130407