"Sabbath Power"

Sermon on Luke 6: 1-16

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS 

January 31, 2021

For a guy who’s supposed to be the Messiah, Jesus seems to be getting in trouble on the Sabbath a lot, don’t you think? “On one sabbath, Jesus was going through the cornfields….” and got in trouble for harvesting grain. “On ANOTHER sabbath, he entered the synagogue and taught…” and got in trouble for healing a man’s hand. 

Just sabbath after sabbath, getting in trouble. What’s the deal? Shouldn’t the Messiah be better behaved than this? 

Well.

Except. 

Jesus isn’t known for being particularly well-behaved. What’s that saying “well-behaved women rarely make history”? It turns out the same might be said for messiahs, too. 

Jesus is feisty on these two sabbaths. In the first, he might be hangry. He and the disciples are traveling on the sabbath and they need something to eat. So they harvest a little grain, rub it between their palms, and eat. When questioned on how this can be lawful, Jesus responds with a cheeky, “I’m Lord of the Sabbath.”

Oh. Okay. 

Feisty. 

On the second sabbath, he’s particularly adept at getting under the other religious leaders’ skins. He feels their eyes on him, wondering if he’s going to heal the man whose name we aren’t given. It almost seems like he chooses to heal the man’s hand BECAUSE he knows it’s going to cause a scene. He asks the other religious leaders a question EVERYONE already knew the answer to. “What is the sabbath for? Doing good or evil? Saving life or destroying it?” No one even answers the question because the answer is so glaringly obvious. OF COURSE the sabbath is for doing good and for saving life, not destroying. 

Hearing no answer he asks the man to stretch out his hand and then it’s healed. We’re not told HOW it’s healed, just that it happens. 

I kind of imagine Jesus looking at the other religious leaders with a twinkle in his eye after the healing. Because they were watching him to see if he’d heal but since we’re not sure HOW the healing happened, Jesus can’t really be blamed, can he? Wink, wink. 

The other religious leaders are filled with fury. The Greek there is actually they were “annoy-ah.” Yes. Annoyed. Peeved. Perturbed. Exasperated.

Who is this Messiah who seems to revel in causing drama? Especially on the sabbath?

Now, I don’t know if you like this trouble-making Jesus. Maybe you love it when he smirks or flips tables. Maybe you think he needs to settle down a smidge - would get his point across better if he BEHAVED a bit. 

Whether you this trouble-making Messiah makes you annoy-ah or inspires you, here he is. The Messiah who gets in trouble a lot. Who troubles us even all these centuries later. 

This is a hard text to preach on. And not just because Jesus’s behavior might make us annoy-ah. There are other difficulties, too. For one, this text has been used for FAR too long in ways that disparage our Jewish kindred. Perhaps you’ve heard an interpretation of this text that goes something like this, “The Jews were obsessed with the Law but Jesus came to show them a better way.”

When Christians interpret our holy scriptures like this, it’s wrong. On several counts. For starters, let’s not forget that Jesus was a faithful Jew for the entirety of his life. So it’s never appropriate to pit Jesus against “the Jews.” Sure, he wasn’t in agreement with all the other religious leaders of his time. They weren’t all in agreement with one another, either. That’s just kind of how it goes. But feeding hungry people or healing on the sabbath actually wouldn’t have been offensive to most Jews in Jesus’s time. We know from other contemporary texts that Jesus wasn’t teaching anything here that wasn’t already being taught by other Jewish leaders. It’s really just not accurate to say that Jesus was out-of-step with all of Judaism on this question. And it’s certainly not okay for Christians to use stories like these to make it seem like Christianity is a better, more evolved religion than Judaism. Full stop. 

Okay, but even beyond THAT sticky issue, there’s another difficulty with this passage. Did you catch it? The man with the withered hand. He seems to just be sitting there at the synagogue, just minding his own business. When suddenly, without being asked, he’s drawn into the drama of Jesus’s teaching as an object lesson. Eek. We have no idea what his name was. We don’t know what was going on with his hand. We have no idea if he WANTED his hand altered in some way. Perhaps he was just fine how he was, right? When viewed through a disability rights lens, this story can feel pretty icky. In our time and culture, we know that it’s not okay to assume people with disabilities need to be “fixed.” And we know that it’s certainly not okay to use other people as props. Jesus lived in a different time and culture than we do. Stories like this one keep us very aware of that important fact. 

Even with all these culture-needs-to-be-translated issues, though, I’m glad this story popped up in the lectionary for us. Because it’s actually the third-and-final part of the passage that I want to turn our attention to now: the calling of the apostles. 

Now, you might be conflating the disciples and apostles in your mind. But in this passage it’s pretty clear they are not a totally overlapping group. Jesus calls his disciples and chooses just 12 to ALSO be apostles. 

We don’t know how many disciples there were. But it sounds like it was certainly more than 12. Disciples were those who followed Jesus. His fan club, students. They were there to follow and learn. From that group of students, he selected 12 to be apostles. The Greek word means someone who is sent. An apostle, then, is one who follows SO THAT they can also then be sent out to do the same things Jesus does: teach, preach, heal, cause good trouble. [1]

The inclusion of this third story in today’s lection reframed the whole thing for me. Because when I read this third story I suddenly realized - this passage, these three stories together...they’re about POWER. Jesus is the Lord of the sabbath...Jesus is teaching in the synagogue...and Jesus is SHARING his power with some of his followers. 

Power - how it’s conferred, how it’s used - that’s been very much on our minds lately, yes? And here we have a story in our ancient scriptures about the one we profess to be our ruler showing us a thing or two about power. And how it’s supposed to be used. 

Jesus is making an unabashed show of his power in these three passages. Power, remember, is in and of itself - neutral. It can be used for good or ill. Jesus uses his power in these stories in practical ways. For good. To feed those who are hungry and need fuel for a journey. To heal. And, finally, to empower others. 

Rather than hoarding all that power, Jesus shows us that the real point of having power is to share it. Jesus’s ministry was not diminished by sharing his power with the apostles. Quite the opposite. By empowering others, his ministry became MORE effective. More feeding, more teaching, more healing, more hope for a hurting world. It’s like Toni Morrison said, “The function of freedom is to free somebody else.” 

Jesus shows us that the whole point of having power is to use it for creating more health and wholeness, building a more just world, and SHARING it with others. The function of having power is to use it to empower someone else. So that goodness can grow in the world.

And so we are called, friends, not JUST to be disciples but apostles, too. 

Not just followers - not just learners at Jesus’s feet...though that’s where it all starts. We are ALSO called to go forth and share with others what we’ve learned and experienced from following Jesus. To tell the stories of all the good trouble he got into. To support and challenge one another as we do our level-best to live like Jesus (and to console and care for one another when we frequently fall short of that audacious goal). To share the good news that we are loved by one who uses power for good, who seeks restoration and new life, and who draws the circle wider and wider and wider still. 

May we step into the circle and join Christ in the dance of the Spirit’s powerful love. 

NOTES:

[1] With gratitude to John Lewis for the concept of “good trouble.”

“Be Loved. Be Love. Beloved.”

Sermon on Luke 3: 7-22

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS 

January 10, 2021

Breathe in, breathe out. Be loved. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Be love. 

Breathe in, breath out. Hear this ancient truth descending from the heavens like a dove: “you are my beloved child, with you, I am well-pleased.”

Beloved humans, have you been remembering to breathe this week? Drink water? Turn off the TV or stop the doomscrolling on your phone? Did you call a friend when you needed a listening ear? Cry when you need to? 

These are all good, important things to do (especially breathing, that one’s really important). But I’m going to let you in on a little secret: even IF you are doing all those things, you might still be feeling vaguely unsettled. Or even outright awful. 

Because it’s been a scary week. And I am sharing this sermon with you from Thursday, because that’s when we have to do the pre-recording for worship these days, so I don’t even know what will transpire between now and when you hear this message on Sunday. I hope and pray that there is no more violence. 

As much as we wanted to turn the calendar page to 2021 and leave so many of the bad parts of 2020 behind, it turns out they came right along with us. We are still living through a great national reckoning. We are still watching the last gasps - oh, I hope, please let it be so, O God - of the scourge of white supremacy that has gripped our nation for so long. We are still living in a time when truth is hard to come by because we have grown accustomed to hearing lies upon lies from those who are supposed to be leading the way. We are still living in a world where the environment is abused, xenophobia runs rampant, and the rich hoard so much while the poor die for lack of access to food, clean water, health care, and more. 

Turning the calendar to 2021 did not fix this. The election did not fix this. Even the vaccines, which we are so grateful for, will not fix all that ails us. 

How do we fix this, then? What do we do? 

As people of faith, we begin, I believe, with prayer and worship. Not the empty kind of “thoughts and prayers” that are, too often, used as an excuse for inaction. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about radical prayer and worship that transforms us and transforms the world. The kind of worship and prayer that centers us in love, draws us beyond ourselves, calls us to be co-creators with God of a world that more closely resembles God’s vision for creation. 

When we come to God in worship and prayer, we attune ourselves to God’s heartbeat. We set aside the incessant thrum of nonstop chaos in the world and listen for God’s vision. We do this not simply to escape the world, though taking a break can certainly be a good thing. We do this to be formed. We do this so that we can truly become Christ’s hands and feet in the world. We do this because we believe we are made in God’s image and, as such, are called to return to Love’s heart again and again and again. It is what we were created to do. 

Sometimes this prayer and worship happens when we are alone. Like when you wake up in the morning and before you reach for your phone to check in on the world, maybe you take just a few moments in the dark to attune your heart to God’s heart. Perhaps you hum a favorite hymn or read a psalm. Maybe you just envision yourself being held in the Spirit’s love and notice how good that feels. Maybe your prayers have words and you pray for someone you love, or a stranger, or an enemy. 

And sometimes this prayer and worship happens when we come together. Like we did on Wednesday afternoon when chaos was unfolding in Washington and some of us hopped onto Facebook Live to breathe together, pray psalms together, sing together. We attuned ourselves to God’s heart in that moment as the world was swirling. And if you missed that video, you are very welcome to go back to it anytime you need to find a quiet center. The link to it was in the e-mail that went out Wednesday afternoon and it’s also on our Facebook page. 

Whether we pray and worship alone or with our families….in small groups or the full congregation….in our sanctuary or in the streets...on Zoom or Facebook Live….when we pray and worship we are reminded who we are and whose we are. We are reminded that no matter what chaos befalls us here in this world, we are a part of a bigger story. We belong to God. 

This is the Sunday in the church year when we remember Christ’s baptism by his cousin, John. And I am grateful that this is our text for today because I think this story contains good news that we very much need to be reminded of right now. 

First, this story reminds us that we belong to God. That’s what baptism is all about. It’s a tangible, visceral reminder that we are named by God, claimed by God, created in God’s image, beloved of God. We belong to God always and forever, no tag backs ever. There is nothing we can do to escape God’s love. There is nothing we can do to be rejected by God. There is no place we can go and be separated from God’s presence. 

As the psalmist writes: 

God is our refuge and strength,

   a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,

   though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;

though its waters roar and foam,

   though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

 

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

   the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;

   God will help it when the morning dawns.

 

The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;

   God speaks, the earth melts.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

   the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Through our baptism, we are reminded of this truth: we are a part of a much bigger story. We belong to God, who is our refuge and strength. This is good news. 

This story about Christ’s baptism also reminds us of something that might not initially seem to be good news, but really is, I think, and that’s this: sin is real and God is concerned about it. 

John the Baptist is out there in the wilderness proclaiming a baptism for the repentance of sins. John knows that when we humans choose to act in ways that are counter to God’s vision of justice, peace, and love, God is concerned. God sends prophets to remind us that we need to turn ourselves around and get back on a better path. That word “repentance” actually means to turn. To make a different choice. 

And heaven knows we are in need of a lot of repentance right now as a society, aren’t we? We need a turning. We need to confess where we have gone off track and make a commitment to realigning ourselves with God’s vision of love, justice, and peace. We have to tell hard truths about how we have loved violence for too long, worshiped money and power, put our hopes in Empire rather than God. We cannot fix what ails us until we are willing to take a good hard look at it and name it as wrong. That is the first step in repentance, turning to a better way. 

Even though we are a part of a world that has so many problems - even though we are all far from perfect - God has not written us off. God continues to send prophets to speak the words of truth we need to hear, even when it’s not pleasant. Jesus continues to point the way to a better vision of who we can be. And the Spirit descends upon Jesus in this story and abides with us even now. 

This story of Jesus’s baptism is about God’s very real and immanent presence among us here on earth. God sees all our troubles and does not run away. Instead, God draws near. 

God draws near to us with wings of protection and care, descending upon us like a dove. 

God draws near, arriving with prophetic words of justice for the poor and oppressed. 

God draws near, ready to transform. To make the crooked paths straight. To make the rough places smooth. To save - that is, to HEAL - all people. 

Jesus steps into the water and the light bends. Something shifts. 

We begin to see, even if it’s a bit blurry when we first start to look. 

The light is the light for all people. 

You, me, your favorite people, and those you think are beyond saving. 

The light shines upon all of us. Illuminating our imperfections and inviting us to allow God to blow away all that we don’t need. Inviting us to hear the Spirit speaking to us now, “You are my child, the Beloved. With you I am well-pleased.”

May it be so. Amen. 

"Home by Another Way"

Sermon on Matthew 2:1-12

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS 

January 3, 2021

Stars. Dreams. A journey. 

A tyrant schemes. 

Wise ones bow down in joy. 

The shadows of violence and empire encircle. 

Stars. Dreams. A journey. Epiphany. 

I’ve always loved the story of the Magi because these outsiders take center stage in an unexpected way. The story shows, right from the beginning, just how earthshaking Christ’s birth was. Not only do emissaries come from afar to greet the young child, but their journey captures the attention of the King. From the beginning of the Jesus story we are told by angels that he will be an earthquake - a force that shakes the foundations - and now, in the story of the Magi, we begin to see this play out. 

No matter how much we might want to keep our faith personal, private, or apolitical, it is clear from the Jesus story that this cannot be. 

Not even able to walk and talk yet, young Jesus is already drawn into the political realm whether he likes it or not. He is seen as a threat to the Empire, and the King wants him dead. He reminds us of so many others who are made into “political issues” - people of color, LGBTQ people, women, immigrants, people with disabilities, and so many others who become “issues” and political footballs in the halls of power. 

Often, we humans end up being political whether we like it or not. 

The story of Epiphany is like that. You can read it all warm and fuzzy with a star gleaming overhead and kind strangers visiting from afar. Mary, Joseph, and the babe are nestled up snug with cuddly cows nearby. Gifts are exchanged. All is calm. All is bright. 

But the subplot of Herod lurks in the shadows and it’s not so easy to dismiss. He attempts to use the Magi to gain access to Jesus and we all know it’s not because he wants to “pay him homage.” The Magi may be foreigners, but they understand what’s going on. When they are warned in a dream to avoid Herod, they do so to protect the infant Christ. 

The story ends with the phrase that’s been circling around and around in my head as we move into 2021. We are told that after they are warned in a dream to avoid Herod they return “home by another way.” 

2020 often felt like a year in exile. Routines disrupted. Isolation. Uncertainty. We’ve all wanted, so desperately, at times to be able to simply flip a switch and go back to “the way things were.” To go home. 

And yet - we also remember, if we’re being honest with ourselves, that the Before Times were far from perfect. Violence against our neighbors, xenophobia, white supremacy, misogyny, economic systems that lead to death, and many other sins that plague us.

If we go home by the same route - if we simply try to go back to the way things were - we will be running right back to Herod. What might it look like to go home by another way instead?

What if we, each of us, step into 2021 with great intention? As we return home together, we can build a new home that is more just, more peaceful, more equitable, more kind, more life-giving for all people and all creation. 

Some of this rebuilding is on a grand scale, of course. We will all be a part of conversations within organizations as we decide what type of home we want to inhabit together on the other side of this pandemic. What systems might we create that allow for flourishing for all creation?

Some of the rebuilding will be much smaller - the way we each structure our days, interact with our neighbors, balance the many demands on our time. How might we rebuild our own lives in ways that lead to abundance and peace?

There are so many ways to intentionally begin to walk that path that leads home. And we go forth with the knowledge that God is still journeying alongside us - still speaking to us just as the Magi were given wisdom in their dreams. 

One of the practices I’d like to invite you into for the coming year is to use the star word you’ve received. These star gifts can invite us into prayer, contemplation, wonder, puzzlement, and deep joy. I’ve invited Greg Eiselein to share with us a very brief testimony about what his experience of his star word has been like this year. Greg, we’d love to hear from you now. 

*****

Thank you, Greg. Friends, we’ll close this time of listening by holding silence for just one minute. It would be a good time to just hold your Star Gift in your open palms and receive it as a gift for Epiphany. For the new year. An invitation to ponder how we might all go home by another way together. With God journeying alongside us. 

Still speaking, still loving, still saving now as always.