“Remembering Bathsheba”

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS

1 Samuel 12: 1-9

October 25, 2026

Do you remember the folktale about the emperor’s new clothes? The story goes like this: some guys showed up at the emperor’s palace and offered to make him the finest clothes. These clothes were said to not only be beautiful but they served as a litmus test of sorts. Only the wise could see the clothes. To the ignorant, they were invisible. 

Day after day, the guests worked away in their workshop. The emperor and his staff looked in but couldn’t see any fabric. Of course, they didn’t dare admit this because they didn’t want to sound stupid. The clothes were “finished” and the emperor put them on to wear to a celebration. The clothes were still invisible, but no one was willing to say so. Until a young child at the event called out the obvious: “Why does the emperor have no clothes?” 

It’s interesting to see the ways royalty are depicted in art across the centuries. There is a story about King David’s wife, Michal, scolding him for dancing half-naked before the Ark of the Covenant. It’s not clear whether she was more embarrassed by his attire or his dancing, but when I went looking for artistic depictions of King David, I only found one where he was scantily clad. 

Bathsheba on the other hand, has been stripped naked for the whole world to see. The King is not the only man who wanted to invade her privacy….a whole host of European male painters also commodified her body for the whole world to use. A one-dimensional Everywoman; her body objectified, but her voice nearly silent. 

Interestingly, many of the artists get the details of the story wrong, too. Perhaps they’re so distracted by Bathsheba’s beauty that they don’t quite take the time to notice the details. Bathsheba is often depicted “bathing on the roof” which is, incidentally, how Leonard Cohen saw her when he wrote his famous Hallelujah. But the text doesn’t say that at all. The only person on the roof in 1 Samuel is the king, using his high vantage point to invade Bathsheba’s privacy. 

The devil is often in the details and this story is no different. When I was taught this story as a child, I was told Bathsheba was bathing on the roof, which made it sound like she was a bit promiscuous - bathing in a highly visible space like that. I got this idea of Bathsheba as an exhibitionist - maybe lonely while her virtuous husband was away at war - and looking for a little diversion. So she seduced King David into adultery. 

The story written in black and white in 1 Samuel doesn’t say this at all. Here’s what it says instead:

First, we have David, starring in the role of the Bad King. It’s clear from the beginning he’s not doing what he’s supposed to do.  It’s the time of the year when “kings go out to battle,” but where is this particular King? At home, safely tucked into the lush confines of his palace. He is not following the rules. He’s not doing his job. 

But he is acting out the role of a king. Remember when the prophet Samuel warned the people about kings? He told them what would happen: a king will take your sons and get them killed in battle. He will take your daughters to “be perfumers”. He’ll take your money, your servants, your livestock, and more. [1] 

So David plays the role of the Biblical King well. He takes and takes. When he sees a woman that he wants, he takes, seizes, possesses, grabs. Furthermore, when he’s caught he knows how to “take care of things quietly.” In this particular instance, he’s even willing to commit murder to make sure his reputation isn’t harmed. 

Juxtaposed with David, of course, is Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, who plays the role of the Good Guy. Uriah IS where he’s supposed to be: out on the battlefield like a good soldier. And when the King summons him home to rest, he’s so virtuous that he refuses to even go home to his wife. “How could I go home and sleep with my wife in our warm, safe bed when my fellow soldiers are sleeping in the mud tonight?” Uriah is such a tragic figure - righteous and used. One of those Good Guys who doesn’t stand a chance against the Big Bad King.

So we have the Bad King, the Good Guy Uriah, and, of course, the Wise Prophet - Nathan. Otherwise known as, “the guy who gets one of the sickest lines in the whole Bible.” 

Nathan is the one who sees what David has been up to and finds a way to confront him. You can’t overstate how courageous this was: David is a man who clearly has questionable morals, having just murdered one of his generals to cover up his own lascivious behavior. To approach him and condemn him directly? Surely Nathan was worried about possible consequences for this decision. Surely he knew he was putting his own life at risk. 

But Nathan not only finds a way to courageously approach the King - he gives a masterclass in effective confrontation, sliding into it through a slide door by way of a story. He says to the king, “Once upon a time, there were two men who lived in the same city. One was rich and the other poor. The rich man had everything he needed and more - so many flocks and herds he lost count of how many he owned. But the poor man just had one little lamb. And he loved that one lamb dearly. He raised the lamb from birth, named her, fed her his own food, cuddled her daily, and even let her drink from his own cup. The lamb was like a daughter to him. One day, a visitor arrived and the rich man needed to prepare a meal. He didn’t want to use one of his own sheep, so he went to the poor man’s house, took his one ewe lamb, slaughtered it, and served it to his guest.” 

Upon hearing this story, the King became incensed. He said to the Prophet Nathan, “What a horrible story! What a horrible man! I swear on God’s name, someone should kill the rich man for his crime!” 

King David can see the fault in this fictional rich man, but doesn’t see the plank in his own eye. He understands what happened in the story to be morally objectionable but has somehow decided the regular rules don’t apply to him. He can’t see himself in it at all. 

Nathan, apparently grown weary of trying to lead a King to water, forces him to drink. He says, “King David, you are this man! God gave you everything you could have ever wanted and more! And if you wanted even more, you could have simply asked God for more and he would have provided! But you weren’t satisfied. You stole Uriah’s wife and then you murdered him in cold blood. What on earth is wrong with you? How can you not see the error of your ways?”

And then, having seen it in the story before he could bear to see it pointed out in himself, David finally gets it. He sees his sin, ever before him. And he confesses it to God, right there in front of the Prophet Nathan. 

But there is no happy ending in this story. As Hermes sings at the beginning of Hadestown, “this is an old tale, a sad tale, a tragedy.” Because the punishment for King David’s sin is levied on his unborn child, who is cursed to die. 

This story is one of those in the Bible that convinces me humans wrote down these stories and that their interpretations of how God works were sometimes….off. I can’t imagine worshiping a God who would kill an innocent baby over his father’s sins. My word. So I choose to believe the Bible is a story written by humans trying to understand God, themselves, and the relationship between them. Sometimes they got it right. Sometimes they got it wrong. 

And what of Bathsheba in all of this? Devoted wife, sex object, widow, grieving mother. This whole tale revolves around her but in this episode we only hear her voice one time, when she writes to the King to say, “I am pregnant.” We aren’t told how she feels about being the object of the King’s desire. What we do know is that she wasn’t given any choice in the matter. Women weren’t allowed to say no to powerful men, especially God-ordained rulers. 

When I teach about human sexuality, I encourage people of all genders to look for “enthusiastic consent” in their desired partner. Enthusiastic consent can only really exist when a person has the ability to say yes or say no. If you’re not given any choice at all, consent becomes a moot point, doesn’t it? 

Although we don’t know as much about Bathsheba as we would prefer, the fact that her name is mentioned at all means that those who preserved these stories believed she was very important. After all, as the Rev. Dr. Wil Gafney points out, only 9% of the people named in the Hebrew Scriptures are women. [2] Her story matters, even as it is incomplete. 

Why does Bathsheba’s story matter? Why do we have her name? Well, the artists may have loved her because they could paint her naked, but the authors of the Biblical text saw her differently. She ends up playing a pivotal role in the story of Israel. The second child she has with David is named Solomon. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? 

And if you’d like to hear Bathsheba’s voice, I encourage you to read the first two chapters of 1st Kings. There, she deftly maneuvers for political power and secures the kingship for Solomon. As the Queen Mother she had unfettered access to the halls of power in ancient Israel. 

And her name is not forgotten. She is one of the four women who makes it into the genealogy of Jesus Christ at the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew. Though she is not named (that would have been nice), she IS right there, “David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah”  - that’s her. Interesting to note that the author of Matthew saw her still as very much Uriah’s wife, not David’s. 

Regardless of whose wife she was and how she was used: Bathsheba is still there. Still standing. Still important. The story of Jesus doesn’t happen without her. 

So perhaps when we speak of her, we can remember her as more than a sex object, more than the wife of whoever. Maybe when we hear a cover of that great Cohen song, we can take a moment and remember she wasn’t even bathing on the roof. Maybe when we see her image hanging on the fall of an art museum we can ask her if she’s cold, stripped naked for the world to see. Maybe we could even offer her the finest clothes. Clothes fit for an Empress. Not the invisible kind - the real kind. Whatever she wants, whether that’s a gorgeous ball gown or the comfiest sweatpants. 

Maybe we can remember her story and tell it to others. In doing so, we keep her memory alive. And we honor not only Bathsheba but every vulnerable and strong person who has ever seen themselves in her story. 

May it be so. 

NOTES:

[1] See 2 Samuel 8.

[2]  http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2535 

“Ad Astra Per Aspera”

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

October 18, 2026

The room where we enjoy coffee and snacks after worship each week was the original sanctuary of our church. Completed in 1859, the congregation held a special service to dedicate the new church building on July 24th of that year. On that same day, 120 miles to the East, Samuel D. Houston of Manhattan gathered with 51 other delegates to draft what would eventually become the constitution of the state of Kansas. 

At this point, Kansas was still a territory, and the journey towards statehood had been long and arduous. The constitution Houston and others were drafting in the summer of 1859 was, in fact, the fourth attempt at becoming a state. The first constitution was written in 1855 in Topeka. Since the U.S. congress was controlled by Southerners at that point and the Topeka constitution was to make Kansas a Free State, the constitution languished. The Southerners in Washington had no interest in adding another Free State to the Union. (As a side note: lest you think all those early abolitionist settlers in Kansas were anti-racist heroes, please note that in that first attempt at a Kansas constitution, the authors decided slavery would be illegal in Kansas but they ALSO decided no Black people - free or enslaved - would be allowed to live in the new state. Not a proud moment in Kansas history.)

In 1858, two other groups of territorial leaders tried their hand at writing a constitution - the proposed Leavenworth constitution was the most progressive, not only banning slavery but endowing Black men with the same rights as White men. The proposed Lecompton constitution went the opposite direction, attempting to enshrine Kansas as a slave state. Neither was adopted. 

Finally, we make it to 1859. As our church building was being dedicated, the territorial delegates in Wyandotte were putting the final touches on a drafted constitution which would eventually become the formal constitution of the State of Kansas when it entered the Union in 1861. One of the delegates at the convention was 26 year old John J. Ingalls - recently arrived from Massachusetts. He was clever with words and rumored to have “studied Webster’s dictionary more than any other man in this part of the country” so they put him in charge of wordsmithing. [1] Ingalls’ linguistic skills allowed him to leave his mark on the state constitution, but most of us can’t quote any of those words. What we CAN quote is the state motto, which Ingalls is said to have coined. It seems he was good with not just English, but Latin, too. Do you want to say it with me? Ad Astra Per Aspera. 

“To the stars through difficulties.”

Although we Kansans often shorten it to just “ad astra” you really need both parts of the phrase to capture the full meaning. It’s not just the idea of ascending to the heavens, but doing so in spite of hardship and challenge. A fitting phrase for a newly-formed state which needed four constitutional conventions to get going. 

Of course, we often don’t like to remember the difficult parts, do we? Sometimes it seems nicer to gloss over the hardships. Better to focus on all that’s been achieved rather than reckon with the blood that was shed along the way. We know this intimately as a congregation that was created by abolitionists who left behind everything they knew to come to Kansas Territory seeking freedom for enslaved Black Americans. But at the very same time, they were seemingly oblivious that they were settling upon a land that was already home to Native people who had been living here for centuries. Ad astra for who, exactly? And which people pay the heaviest price when we seek the stars through difficulties? 

Though our state’s history is a mixed bag when it comes to “loving every single other,” it does seem they got it right when they picked our motto. “To the stars through difficulties” is something that people of every race, gender, creed, nationality, and ability can identify with. Because figuring out how to keep putting one foot in front of the other when the going gets tough is something deeply human. We all have to learn to persevere through challenges. 

It turns out that those born into privilege are actually at a disadvantage when it comes to mastering the art of perseverance. Those who occupy spaces of power in our society are often all-too-unaware of their vulnerabilities. The more privilege you have, the less likely you are to have opportunities to overcome challenges. And when you miss out on all those daily chances to rub against friction, you don’t build up callouses. You don’t have a chance to work your muscles and get strong. And you certainly don’t understand your human vulnerability in any real way. All of this “ease” makes the privileged, protected ones in our world ill-prepared for going to the stars. Unless, of course, the ticket is an all-inclusive one on a Space X rocket. But if the trip requires more than swiping a credit card and buckling up for the ride? Forget it. Challenges become overwhelming for those who have no practice as persevering through difficulties. 

Ta-Nehisi Coates says this far more eloquently than I ever could. In Between the World and Me, his letter to his son, Coates says this about growing up Black in America:

“I am sorry that I cannot make it okay. I am sorry that I cannot save you— but not that sorry. Part of me thinks that your very vulnerability brings you closer to the meaning of life, just as for others, the quest to believe oneself white divides them from it. The fact is that despite their dreams, their lives are also not inviolable. When their own vulnerability becomes real—when the police decide that tactics intended for the ghetto should enjoy wider usage, when their armed society shoots down their children, when nature sends hurricanes against their cities—they are shocked in a way that those of us who were born and bred to understand cause and effect can never be. And I would not have you live like them. You have been cast into a race in which the wind is always at your face and the hounds are always at your heels. And to varying degrees this is true of all life. The difference is that you do not have the privilege of living in ignorance of this essential fact.” [2]

Jesus spoke as one who understood the realities Coates is communicating to his son. 

Separated by centuries, they both know what it’s like to live as oppressed people. Both are intimately familiar with the vulnerabilities inherent in the human condition. And both have decided to live as free people - people who can aspire to the stars, even though they know full-well the difficulties that lie on the path ahead. 

Jesus uses his Sermon on the Mount to lay out for his disciples some of his most important teachings. It’s where we learn that the poor and peacekeepers are blessed. It’s also where Jesus teaches us how to pray. And in today’s passage from that sermon, we hear Jesus remind his disciples to keep their eyes fixed on the skies above. 

He says ““Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

When Jesus speaks of heaven, he doesn’t seem to be speaking of an afterlife. He uses the Greek word ouranos (ooh-rah-NAHS) quite often. But that word (which is translated as “heaven” in our English Bibles) didn’t have the same connotations in Jesus’s time and place. Instead, it’s probably better translated as “the skies” - that great expanse that extends above us. Home to the sun, moon, stars, birds, clouds, thunder and rain. And, in Jesus’s mind, the place where God dwells. Perhaps not in a physical way, but in a tangible way, nonetheless. Because if we experience God as an unseen force, a Spirit of love, something we cannot touch with our hands, then what better place for God to call home than the skies above, which were - for those in Jesus’s time - beyond our reach? 

There’s something about looking up at the sky - whether it’s fluffy white clouds floating past, or an ominous wall of rain, or the twinkling stars at night - that puts things in perspective as a human. Helps us realize that we are part of something much bigger than what we can see with our eyes and touch with our hands. The vastness of the ouranos - the skies - catches our breath as we realize we are small creatures spinning on a big planet, aloft in a galaxy that’s flying through the universe. If you pause long enough while staring up at the sky you might start to feel your mind spin out as reality feels harder to grasp. It’s a disorienting feeling, staring up at that vast unknown, isn’t it? 

Perhaps this is why Jesus cautions us to never lose sight of the skies above. Don’t get so focused on the solid ground below you that you forget what’s overhead. Don’t keep all of your treasures down here on Earth where they’re prone to get spoiled by rust or pests. Always make sure there’s at least a fraction of what you love the most that’s off there in that unreachable place. A portion of what you value most that can’t be destroyed by anything in the 24-hour news cycle. A bit of you that knows you’re free no matter what the empire says. A tiny corner of your soul that flies above, unbothered, in the realm of God. 

Because at the end of the day, we humans are rooted here on earth but also meant to fly high into the heavens with God. We carry within us that divine spark of Love that allows us to transcend the trials and tribulations that may befall us here on Earth. We are not trapped in our Earthly bodies, but somehow able to connect beyond time and space to those who came before us and those who will come after. Perhaps when Jesus ascended at the end of his time on Earth it wasn’t so we would “ooh and ahh” at how special he was. Perhaps it was meant to be a reminder to us that we, too, belong at home with God - in the great expanse beyond what we can see and touch. 

Perhaps it was a reminder that if we hold too tightly to the concrete things in front of us, we’ll miss the invitation to fly to the stars, even through the greatest of difficulties. If we focus solely on the daily grind, carefully constructing pockets of safety for our treasures, we may miss the opportunity to soar beyond the confines of our anxiety. 

Jesus invites us to allow our hearts to soar, even when it feels impossible. 

God who dwells in the skies, beyond all knowing, 

We call upon your name as holy. 

May your realm come to us here on earth, just as it is in your home, beyond. 

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts, 

as we forgive our debtors.

Lead us not into temptation 

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, 

and the power,

and the glory, forever. Amen.

NOTES

[1] https://www.ksgenweb.org/archives/wyandott/history/1911/volume1/146.html 

[2 Coates, Ta-Nehisi. Between the World and Me. 

“Abundant Wisdom”

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS

Exodus 20:1-17 and Proverbs 3:1-12

October 11, 2026

Recently, I was talking with a couple of friends and catching up about our weekends. One friend said that she had spent her whole Saturday going through a pile of old magazines and collaging. She spent time cutting out images and words that spoke to her and arranged them on her collage. As she described her process I could see how restorative this activity was for her. She finished telling us about her collage and said, “And then I watched Toy Story 5! I was really living my best life!” 

Wouldn’t it be great if all our days were like that? Okay, so maybe collaging and Toy Story aren’t your thing, but can you think of the last time you had a day when you felt like you were “living your best life”? Maybe you were surrounded by people you love, or out in nature with a favorite pet. Perhaps your best life involves volunteering at Common Table or cheering on student athletes at a K-State game. Maybe your best life is spent in the kitchen, baking a cake for a family member or hanging out with church friends to fill the freezer for our new potato soup ministry. Whatever your “best life” is, you know it when it’s within reach, don’t you? 

In the gospel of John, Jesus says “I came that you might have life - and have it abundantly.” I think that’s a bit like Jesus saying he hopes and prays that we can all live our best lives. 

Of course, Jesus isn’t speaking just to you, personally, when he says that. He actually doesn’t say “you” there, he says “they.” He’s telling a parable about sheep and the thieves that come to cause harm to the sheep - and the shepherd who protects them. He says he’s the shepherd who is there to protect all the sheep - and work for a world where every sheep in the fold can live their best life. 

In adult Sunday School, we’ve been talking about how we interpret scripture. Where did the Bible come from? How should we use it? Of course, one of the things we started talking about right away is that the Bible is not one book, but a library of over 60 books, conveniently bound into one compact package. So when we ask “how should we use the Bible?” it really depends on which book we’re talking about, doesn’t it? A history book has a different use than poetry. The gospels may be helpful to us in a different way than the epistles, which are letters. 

Today’s reading from the book of Proverbs takes us into the realm of “wisdom literature.” UCC pastor, the Rev. Barbara J. Essex describes the book like so: 

The Book of Proverbs is a somewhat quirky collection of sayings, poems, proverbs, and instructions. Grouped with Job, Psalms, Ecclesiastes and Song of Solomon in most Christian Bibles, Proverbs is part of the Wisdom tradition. Collected over a long period of time, with various and diverse authors and settings, the Wisdom tradition responds to some of life’s most pressing issues and concerns. Proverbs offers strategies for dealing with real life situations and concerns, offering practical advice and insights. Dr. Ellen Davis reminds us that: “The proverbs are spiritual guides for ordinary people, on an ordinary day, when water does not pour forth from rocks and angels do not come to lunch.”

Most days are ordinary days. Days when water is not pouring forth from rocks and angels aren’t knocking at our door asking for lunch. But even these ordinary days have a rhythm and cadence - and some of them are much better than others. Rev. Essex says that Proverbs offers a lot of sound guidance about how to “live our best lives.” And the book reminds us, again and again, that God’s version of abundant life is distinctly counter-cultural. 

Many of our ideas about what abundant life looks like are shaped when we are young and dreaming about what our future may hold. Most of us in the room are probably familiar with a phrase that’s not as common these days - “keeping up with the Joneses” - that fictional family that always had the new car in the driveway, just came home from a fabulous trip, and loves to tell you about their kitchen remodel at a cocktail party. These ideas about what we “need” to “keep up” were fueled by ad men on Madison Avenue, magazine spreads, and television commercials. All of it carefully calibrated to ensure we could never quite keep up and abundance was always just a bit beyond our reach. 

Those who are a little younger might identify more with the pressure of “keeping up with the Kardashians” or _______ (fill in the blank with your favorite influencer). These days we’re more likely to be told what our best lives could look like by content creators who always have the new, viral lip gloss, the tricked-out truck, and are living la dolce vita on the Amalfi coast. The media has changed, but the message is the same: you are what you spend. Buy more, keep up, and maybe your best life is just around the corner. 

And these days we are facing an increased pressure to “live our best lives” by pursue endless efficiency. You can hardly turn on your phone, computer, or even some household appliances without being courted by AI. “Just let me summarize that email for you…” or “Give me all of your account log ins and I can schedule your whole day, simplify your life, make you an exercise plan, do your entire job for you…” The current iteration of artificial intelligence is clearly designed to be addictive - luring us into a simpler life where we can outsource almost everything - including our brains. In turn, the tech billionaires amass ever more data and enshrine themselves more fully in our daily lives. Studies show that the regular use of AI for everyday tasks makes us less competent, not more, as we trade short-term-efficiency for long-term-human-development. To say nothing, of course, of the painful impacts on our already-hurting planet. 

Whether we’re looksmaxxing or productivitymaxxing, the siren song is the same: do more, earn more, buy more, have more, be more. The endless loop of production-and-consumption is the air we breathe. So ever-present that we hardly notice it’s there. 

Our faith, of course, presents alternative options. Rev. Essex points out that today’s text from Proverbs “explores what constitutes a good life—rooted in faith and supported by community; with compassion and sharing at its core; and reflecting our God who is generous and just….The Book of Proverbs declares that pursuing wisdom leads to longevity, wealth, esteem in the eyes of others, and a healthy respect for others. Choosing the path of wisdom leads to purpose and meaning as one moves through life. Pursuing wisdom is the path to peace or, in the Hebrew, shalom. This term means more than the absence of war or conflict, although it embraces that meaning. Shalom carries the sense of wholeness, completeness, justice, prosperity, harmony, safety—total well-being for humans and nature.”

For followers of Jesus, “living our best lives” can never be just about me or us. It always has to be about abundance for all - not just humans, but every creature that inhabits this Earth and, yes, the Earth itself. Our sacred texts remind us that “living your best” life turns out to not be about how new your car is or how many followers you have or even how efficient you are at getting things done. “Living your best life” is about caring for the poor, the widow, the orphan. It’s about doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. Our best lives are available to us when we seek to love God and love our neighbor as we love ourselves. 

Today’s reading from Proverbs is paired with a familiar passage from Exodus: the giving of the Ten Commandments to the Israelites. Over the years, I’ve heard far too many Christians talk about the commandments given in the Hebrew Bible with derision. You probably know this flavor of Christianity, too, right? “Oh, we ignore all of that. We don’t have to follow those silly rules because Jesus came and died for our sins, so we can do whatever we want now.” 

This has always struck me as odd. Don’t we want our faith to offer guidance for how we’re supposed to live our lives? Don’t we pick up our Bibles and pray and come to worship partially because we crave the structure and boundaries offered to us? I’m not advocating that we need to follow every law given to the Israelites over 2000 years ago. I’m also not making light of powerful message of God’s love and grace that flows through the story of Jesus. But I do think there is an appeal to having some rules and structure to govern our lives as human beings. I do think there are times when we have to make difficult decisions and we look to the wisdom offered to us by our faith as a guide. I do think it is a powerful thing to remember that God commanded our faith ancestors to remember that our liberation comes from God and we shouldn’t worship other gods. I think the practice of Sabbath can be life-giving. I believe we humans do need reminders to live with integrity, tell the truth when it matters most, and seek to live in peaceful ways - rejecting violent deeds and actions. 

Without God’s wisdom - without God’s laws - we have nothing calling us to a higher standard than the customs of our day. We may find ourselves easily seduced by the cultural norm of keeping up with the Joneses or Kardashians or whoever. We may not hear the invitation to follow Christ into a life of true abundance, which only comes when we seek to help everyone find abundant life. 

May we continue to receive and consider the good news of God’s guidance for our lives. May we continue to seek Christ’s invitation to abundance - living with generous spirits and seeking health and wholeness for everyone. Because, as Rev. Essex reminds us, 

“Our generosity and stewardship show up in concrete, tangible acts of love, compassion, and care for others—providing comfort after natural disasters; providing shelter, nourishment and safety for those displaced; providing means of empowerment and resilience for those experiencing prejudice; offering support during economic hardship and difficult circumstances beyond their control. Our collective giving meets immediate needs and promotes long-term development and self-sufficiency for those most vulnerable. Wisdom calls us to do no less.”

“All Authority”

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS

Matthew 28:16-20

September 20, 2026

“What are the consequences of thinking that your intelligence or personality is something you can develop, as opposed to something that is a fixed, deep-seated trait?” [1] 

This is the question psychologist Carol Dweck has spent her life trying to answer. In doing so, she’s become one of those rare psychologists whose ideas and theories have so permeated the zeitgeist that you’ve been impacted by her work even if you’ve never heard her name. 

Dweck is the person who came up with the concept of fixed and growth mindsets. When we believe our skills, talents, intelligence are innate - that we did well on a test because we’re smart or that we scored the winning goal because we’re naturally a good athlete - we’re seeing ourselves through a fixed mindset. 

When we believe that our skills, talents, intelligence are malleable - that we can get a higher grade next time if we work hard or that we can make our sprint a little faster with the right effort - we’re operating with a growth mindset. 

It turns out the internal monologue we have about our efforts, successes, and failures makes an enormous impact on our lives. When we lean into a fixed mindset, we often fail to apply ourselves. A low grade on a test can become a catastrophic incident because it not only means we did poorly on one test, it suddenly means we’re stupid and there’s no point in trying. And we’re less likely to try hard things because we’re so afraid of failure. Meaning, we don’t grow much because we’re not practicing like we could be. 

Conversely, a growth mindset can help us stick with all kinds of challenging tasks. Messing up the presentation might be embarrassing, but it’s not a character judgment. And we have a lot to learn from our failures because there’s always room for growth. 

While recently re-reading Dweck’s 2006 book, Mindset, I had one of those “mind blown” moments. She was writing about how much power we give to other people’s assessments of our skills and worth - and she looked at it through a gendered lens. Dweck writes that women often learn to put a high degree of trust in other people’s opinions of them. As girls, they may be praised often for being pleasing, kind, well-behaved, helpful. And so they feel good about themselves. Which is all well and good until they make a mistake. And someone calls them on it. And suddenly the whole world is disintegrating because “if someone else says it, it must be true.”

Boys, on the other hand, are criticized and scolded often. Dweck and her team found that in an elementary school classroom, boys received eight times the criticism the girls did for their behavior. And, she says, boys are also more likely to tease each other - calling each other names and openly criticising each other. From this, boys may learn not to put too much stock in what others think of them. They might learn to look to their own internal assessments as the authority instead.  

MIND BLOWN. 

I couldn’t help but think of Dweck this week when I read Jesus’s words in Matthew’s Gospel: “all authority on heaven and earth has been given to me.” 

ALL AUTHORITY? On heaven AND earth? That’s a lot of authority! What does that even mean? 

Dweck is talking about authority with her mindsets. Do we look to others to assess our worth? Or do we have an intrinsic sense of it ourselves? Do we allow a fixed or growth mindset to tell us what a high or low test grade means? 

Jesus would say, “You’re overthinking all of this, folks. It’s easy. All authority on heaven and earth has been given to me.” Boom. That’s it. 

Now authority is a word that chafes for many. Perhaps we don’t want to be told what to do. We’ve had bad experiences with giving too much authority away. We’ve been preyed upon by authorities who used their power-over in damaging ways. 

Biblical scholar Osvaldo Vena says that in Matthew’s Gospel the word “authority” is “always used in connection with Jesus’s acts of healing and forgiveness.” He says Christ’s authority is “not an authority that demands people’s submission but rather an authority that empowers and liberates.” [2] 

Authority, like power, is neutral. It becomes healing or harmful depending on who is exercising it and the way in which they do so. 

And so, when Jesus, the one who came to us made in the image of God’s Love, the one who ate with sinners and questioned those in power, the one who healed and taught about love, the one who laid down his life in solidarity with the oppressed - when Jesus says he has all authority, it seems to me this authority is meant to free us, not hem us in.

Because to say that Jesus has all authority is ALSO to say that there are many other powers that do NOT have authority: the numbers in our bank account, our test scores, the aches and pains and limitations of our bodies. To say that Jesus has all authority is to say that unhealthy or abusive relationships, fear and anxiety, addictions and mental health struggles, these do not have ultimate authority. To say that Jesus has all authority is to claim that it’s actually not our algorithms and social media feeds, our boss, the mayor, the governor, the president that have authority over our lives. 

Can I get an Amen? 

At the end of the day, we all have something that is our ultimate authority. Named or not. Examined or not. We all have a God, even if we call it by another name. The question is not whether we have an ultimate authority in our lives: the question is, “what is it?”

Jesus says it’s Love. Everything else gets measured against this plumb line for Jesus: “Love God and love your neighbor and yourself.” His life, his ministry, his death, his resurrection - they all point towards this authority. 

To say that Love has ultimate authority is not just a theological or philosophical claim. Because Love is an action word. Love comes with strings attached. In the profound and powerful words of bell hooks “Love is as love does. Love is an act of will - namely, both an intention and an action.” [3] 

And so we should not be surprised that immediately after Jesus claims all authority on heaven and earth, he launches into concrete expectations for his followers, “Go and share the good news of God’s love with others. Baptize them and welcome them into the community. Teach them so they can keep learning alongside you. And always remember, you don’t go alone. I am with you. Always.”

If we are to go and do all the things Love asks us to do, we need to get serious about preparing for the journey. Because there are a lot of wannabe authorities that would love to sell us their version of reality instead. If we are to go and do all the things Love asks of us, we have to stop spending so much time doom scrolling and numbing and consuming the twenty-four hour news cycle that continually tells us we’re all about to die in the next decade. 

And lest you think I’m picking on you, I’m preaching to myself here, too. 

I usually do a pretty good job of telling those wannabe authorities to “shhhhh” and simmer down. But there are days when they seem so loud. Days when I want to curl up under a cozy blanket and hide from all the bad things in our world. 

When I do that - when I retreat to the fortress of a dark blanket on my couch - I try to remember to carry Jesus’s words with me. Because his promise that all authority belongs to him is a balm for my weary soul. 

If Jesus has all authority, it means that the relentless news cycle about AI is scary, but it’s not the ultimate authority in our lives. 

If Jesus has all authority, it means that climate change is terrifying, but it’s not the end of the story. 

If Jesus has all authority, it means elections will come and go. It means there is no politician or political party that has all the answers - though they sure would like you to think so. 

If Jesus has all authority, it means that when the midterms are over, our work is the same. Keep showing up. Keep listening and learning. Keep speaking up on behalf of the least, the lost, and the last. Keep telling stories that bring healing and hope. Keep pointing to Love as the ultimate authority. Keep doing justice, loving mercy, walking humbly. 

The work doesn’t change because the authority never changes. 

It’s always Love. 

In this world filled with wannabe authorities, where, in your life do you find space to commune with Love? It might be in daily prayer or time with the Bible. It might be through music or art. Or chopping vegetables or weeding your garden. Maybe you find Love when you’re volunteering or hugging a tree. If all authority belongs to Jesus then we are invited and compelled to nurture daily practices that help us tune out the wannabes and tune into the Christ Force that surrounds us. 

Last Friday, on the 25th anniversary of September 11th, I found myself in a retreat center in rural Oklahoma, beginning the day with silent prayer. I was surprised to find that what I needed most in that time was to cry. I wept for all the horrific things that have come to pass in the last 25 years - September 11th, war after war, school shootings, the horrors of white supremacy, the rise of fascism, the pain of our planet, COVID….plus, of course, the all the difficulties unique to my own life. 

And when I reached the end of my tears, I received a gift. It was quiet. I had to really focus to make out the words. But it sounded like this: “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” 

Always. Always. Always. 

Thanks be to God. 

NOTES:

[1] Carol Dweck. Mindset. 

[2] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/the-holy-trinity/commentary-on-matthew-2816-20-9 

[3] bell hooks. All About Love. 

“A Tale of Two Coats”

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS

Matthew 14:22-33

August 30, 2026

This is a tale of two coats. One mythical. One lyrical. Both reminders of the power of the stories we tell.

Now, I don’t typically make a habit of eulogizing every famous person who dies. And I hope you’ll forgive me the next time an artist who impacted your life in a significant way passes and they don’t get mentioned from the pulpit. But when I saw that the scripture for this Sunday was about Joseph’s coat of many colors and Dolly Parton passed from this life the very same week? There was no way I could preach on Joseph’s coat without also considering Dolly’s. 

Dolly tells the story of her coat of many colors in a song that she wrote when she was 23 years old. She reflects on her childhood and tells the story of how, one fall, it was growing cold outside and she still didn’t have a winter coat yet. So her mother, Avie Lee, sat down to make her one. The family was quite poor and Dolly’s mom made the coat from scraps of rags someone had donated to them. As her mother pieced together the small scraps of fabric, she told young Dolly the story of Joseph from the Bible, suggesting that perhaps Dolly, too, would be blessed by the coat and find “good luck and happiness.” 

Dolly was so proud to wear her coat of many colors. She thought it was beautiful, and when her mother gave it to her, sealed with a kiss, she was delighted. But she had a hard time convincing the other kids at school of the coat’s beauty. They saw a poor girl dressed in rags. She tried to explain to them the real story of the coat. She wrote:

And, oh, I couldn't understand it, for I felt I was rich

And I told 'em of the love my mama sewed in every stitch

And I told 'em all the story Mama told me while she sewed

And how my coat of many colors was worth more than all their clothes.

But they didn't understand it and I tried to make them see

That one is only poor only if they choose to be

Now I know we had no money, but I was rich as I could be

In my coat of many colors my mama made for me [1] 

Her mother’s love as a fierce armor against the autumn winds and taunts of schoolchildren, Dolly knew that she was rich in things that mattered in life. She had her family’s love and she had a dream of becoming someone special. Her coat of many colors gave her a sense of worthiness and a sure foundation which allowed her to withstand the bullies at school. 

Avie Lee could have simply made the rag-coat for Dolly and given it to her with a hug and a kiss. And perhaps Dolly would have loved it, still. But her mama gave her something else along with the coat: a powerful story about hope for the future. That story enhanced young Dolly’s sense of belovedness, allowing her to challenge the misguided perceptions of her classmates. 

The power of stories is in the telling and re-telling. And in the hearing and re-hearing. 

This is why we, people of the book, gather week after week to hear and re-hear, tell and re-tell our sacred stories. A story is never the same twice. Even if the words are said in the exact same order, the hearers hear with new ears. And the story continues to live and breathe and inspire in fresh ways. Isn’t that miraculous? Stories are living things. They shape our understanding of the world, God, and our place in the midst of it all. 

Avie Lee’s interpretation of the Joseph story certainly had a powerful effect on young Dolly. And while we’ll never know the exact way that she told the story that day, what we’re left with is Dolly’s recollection of what she heard as a young child. Joseph’s is a long story (14 whole chapters!), but Dolly came away with one message: "Perhaps this coat will bring you good luck and happiness.” A beautiful lesson for a young child. And when delivered with a mother’s hug and kiss? Just the thing Dolly needed as she headed off to school. 

Of course, you can read the story of Joseph this way and that and come away with an infinite number of other interpretations. That’s the beauty of the story. And the power of the telling is a chance to present one option for consideration. Sharing your interpretation with someone else as a precious gift and seeing how it is received. 

Any story that takes up 14 chapters in the book of Genesis is going to be messy. And Joseph’s is messier than most. Avie Lee focused on Joseph’s coat of many colors as a gift from his father that brought him luck. And while he certainly lived a charmed life in some ways, it was not all roses and glitter. Joseph’s father gave him the coat as a way of setting him apart from his other sons - playing favorites. While Joseph preened like a beautiful peacock in his coat, his brothers’ resentment grew. Eventually, they threw him into a pit and sold him into slavery because they hated him so much. Was Joseph lucky? In some ways, yes. In other ways, not so much. 

Joseph was special. Set apart. Brilliant interpreter of dreams. 

Joseph was also obnoxious. Didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. 

Joseph was helpful. Sharing his knowledge with anyone who would listen. 

Joseph was also self-interested. Using his unique skills to get ahead. 

Joseph was manipulative. Lying and deceiving to make things go his way. 

Joseph was also deeply traumatized. Doing his best to survive in scary situations that none of us would wish on our enemies. 

Depending on how the story’s been shared with you, you may love Joseph or hate him. Heck, you may feel one way about him today and another way tomorrow. That’s okay. That’s the power of the telling and re-telling, the hearing and re-hearing. That’s what keeps these sacred stories alive. 

I confess that I’ve always been a Joseph fan. Maybe it’s just because I grew up on the musical version of Joseph, he of the Technicolor Dreamcoat, and what’s not to love about that outrageous, campy version of the story? 

I’ve always felt a little sorry for Joseph. It’s not his fault he was favored. It’s not his fault he was given the ability to interpret dreams. And, sure, he’s annoying in a little brother kind of way, but did he really deserve to be thrown in a pit and sold into slavery? I think not!

But this week, reading Joseph’s story alongside Dolly’s death, I couldn’t help but compare the two coat-wearers. Dolly was the 4th child of 12. Joseph was the second to youngest in a family of 13. They both had outsized personalities and big dreams from a young age. Joseph was hated by his own family and estranged from them. Dolly was incredibly close to hers - married to her husband for almost 60 years and tightly connected to the entire clan. 

Joseph was known for his ability to interpret dreams. And Dolly was known for something Joseph never quite mastered: humility in the face of living out her dreams. I believe her humility was one of the gravitational pulls that Dolly had. And one of the reasons so many looked up to her as an example of what it truly means to live like Jesus. 

Dolly’s was not a false, “aw shucks” kind of humility. She knew she was talented and whip-smart and hilarious. She knew that she sparkled like rhinestones. But she never would have told others she had a dream they would all bow down to her. Dolly understood that she was special and everyone else is, too. She spent her life trying to do for others what Avie Lee did for her as a child: show them they could always be rich in the things that truly matter. And continually remind every person she encountered that they were worthy of unconditional love. 

There’s a beautiful story about Dolly interacting with the child actor who portrayed her in the Coat of Many Colors movie. Alyvia Lind was only eight-years-old when she was tapped to portray young Dolly. She reflected on meeting with Dolly to get advice on how to play the role. Lind said, “She told me just to be myself, and just to play the role just how my heart thinks I should play the role, and she says that 'the best you can do is the best it will be.” [2] 

She told that little girl to just be herself. And that that would be the very best thing. Isn’t that beautiful? You can almost hear the voice of Dolly’s own mother, Avie Lee, speaking directly to that young actor, saying, “Sweetheart, you know what you need to know. You are already enough.” 

Dolly’s humility - her sense of her place in the world - allowed her to see others clearly as beloved children of God. She had a way of making kindness and unconditional respect seem natural and easy. 

Dolly was a strong supporter of LGBTQ+ rights since at least the 1980s, putting her money where her mouth was, donating generously to help those most affected by the AIDS crisis. In 2011, she was horrified to learn that an employee at Dollywood made a park guest turn their “marriage is so gay” t-shirt inside out. She apologized to the guest personally and publicly saying, "Everyone knows of my personal support of the gay and lesbian community. Dollywood is a family park and all families are welcome." 

And, of course, there’s her famous quip from 2009 - six whole years before marriage equality.  "Sure, why can't they get married? They should suffer like the rest of us do!" [3] 

Dolly defended those that the world bullied with her ever-present sense of humor and sparkle. When she spoke about how to treat people you walked away wondering how anyone could possibly think any different. It’s just common sense. Duh. 

I imagine her as a little girl, standing up to those bullies at school with her hand on one hip and an incredulous tone to her voice. “How can y’all be so confused about this coat? It is beautiful! My mama made it with love! And, listen, don’t you know the story about Joseph and his beautiful coat? Let me tell you all about it…” 

She said in the song that the other kids walked away confused and didn’t quite understand. But I can’t help but wonder if she planted a seed. That’s what stories do, of course. And she was a gifted storyteller. She felt the power of stories at a young age and she spent her life telling stories to others. You could say her greatest legacy may be the 300 million books she gave away to children - giving the literal gift of stories to children the way Avie Lee did for her. Did you  know that roughly one in seven children in the U.S. under the age of give receive a book from Dolly every single month? For free? What an incredible gift to share. The gift of stories. 

Stories have the power to shape a life. Change the world. Dolly knew this. And we in the Church know this, too. 

Which stories do we listen to? Which stories are we telling and re-telling to the young people in our lives? What stories are we writing with our actions each and every day? And who might need the gift of a story of hope and inspiration at this moment in time? 

God, we give you thanks for all the stories and storytellers. May those who have ears to hear, listen. 

NOTES

[1] https://genius.com/Dolly-parton-coat-of-many-colors-lyrics
[2] https://www.knoxnews.com/story/entertainment/2016/06/02/child-actress-alyvia-alyn-lind-talks-coat-sequel-playing-dolly-parton/91004870/ 

[3] https://www.facebook.com/share/p/194RNKyure/