Advent is...

Isaiah 2:1-5

The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.

In days to come the mountain of the LORD’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. Many people shall come and say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples’ they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!

Psalm 122

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD.” Now our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is built as a city that is at unity with itself; to which the tribes go up, the tribes of the LORD, the assembly of Israel, to praise the name of the LORD. For there are the thrones of judgment, the thrones of the house of David. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: “May they prosper who love you. Peace be within your walls and quietness within your towers. For the sake of my kindred and companions, I pray for your prosperity. Because of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek to do you good.”

Romans 13:11-14

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

Matthew 24:36-44

Jesus said to the disciples, “About that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

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Swords into ploughshares. Wouldn’t that be amazing. I was scrolling around the Internet this week and came across not only a story of Russia deciding to upgrade its military tanks, but more stories of violence at home, more Nazi language being used in this country, more death and fear and threats of deportation and a religion-based registry. And that’s before I even got to the ongoing stories of what’s happening at Standing Rock, which is escalating even still, even during this week where we celebrated Thanksgiving and dressed our children like pilgrims and Indians and called it ‘cute,’ forgetting the history of small pox and the trail of tears and the genocide. Swords into ploughshares, would we even know what to do if we weren’t fighting something, fighting somebody? Would we even know what to do if we woke up and saw the bigger picture and our part in it? What would our world look like if we didn’t make any more veterans because we didn’t make any more war? Do we know how to grieve our pain, or only how to fight? Have we forgotten how to plant, how to cultivate, how to live in peace?

Advent is a combination of end times and new beginnings. We would not be waiting and hoping for something new if we were happy and at peace with how things are. And I don’t just mean wishing we hadn’t eaten so much at the holiday and hoping to fit into those jeans again. I don’t just mean wishing my portfolio looked better. I mean an end to the murders of transgender people - there have been almost three hundred this year alone, and most are women of color who are misrepresented in their obituaries and the media reports. I mean an end to the need to work two or three full-time jobs to make basic ends meet. I mean being able to trust the water out of your tap is drinkable, being able to send your child off to school in the morning and trust they will make it home alive, being able to wear what makes you comfortable without being sexually harassed and assaulted. 

Advent is a time when we say we have had enough of this. We turn to God with fists raised in frustration and say ‘fix it!’ Because for far too long we have known that two may be working in a field and one will be taken, one will be left, and community will be broken by violence and deeper ‘us versus them’ divides. How many times we have decided not to talk politics with friends because we like to keep the peace, but those politics affect our daily living and the daily living of those friends, and that peace is more and more tenuous if we are too afraid of each other to engage in basic care for the world. I know we don’t tend to like conflict, but we’ve got to know how to handle it, because it’s all around us, and it’s inside us, too. How do we live without cutting ourselves into what pieces are allowed where, without hiding what’s important to us because we might not feel entirely accepted, without waking up one day feeling like we’ve missed something? That unexpected hour is a rude awakening at best. Some might call it a midlife crisis. Or a defining moment. Or a breaking point.

Advent is our community reaching a breaking point. It is waking up to what we ignore, wrestling honestly and intently with what we want the world to be and what it really is, with who we want to be and who we really are. Advent is calling on God to do something and getting our hands dirty doing something. If you’re pregnant and the baby is due any day now, you don’t wait until you’ve been discharged from the hospital to buy the crib and the car seat and the diapers and the onesies and the blankets and the bottles. We are building a world, with God or without God, and what we build isn’t just for us, it is for our neighbors and our children and for people we will never meet. What kind of world will God give us courage to build? Where nation shall not raise up against nation, where we won’t learn war any more?

Advent is calling on God’s promise of faithfulness to bring us to completion. It is overturning every rock and fallen log looking for that presence of divinity that throbs in our veins. Because Advent hope is not just going on with business as usual and expecting to wake up one morning in heaven. Advent hope is planting a tree when it seems the world is ending. Advent is turning swords into plough shares, caring for land that we have historically covered in blood, uprooting injustice and seeing what crops God will plant among us. Advent is liberation, and it is for the whole of the world. This is the season we are in, the time at hand, the passion of a God who is so invested in our healing that She took on flesh and blood for our sake, in order to live and die just like the rest of us. So let us use wisely the time that we have, trusting in that compassion to hold us together in times it feels the world might fall apart, and to spur us forward in times when we can’t see which way to go.

Paradise is possible

Christ the King

Jeremiah 23:1-6

Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! says the LORD. Therefore thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, concerning the shepherds who shepherd my people: It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. So I will attend to you for your evil doings, says the LORD. Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the LORD. The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. And this is the name by which he will be called: “The LORD is our righteousness.”

Colossians 1:11-20

May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers - all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn of the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Luke 23:33-43

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right, and one on his left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do now know what they are doing.” And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said to Jesus, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

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What is 'paradise'? When you hear Jesus tell the condemned about being together in paradise, what do you imagine? Do you visualize a great open field, or a bustling city? Maybe a great big Thanksgiving table where you are surrounded by loved ones, or a sunny day at a baseball game? What's your image of paradise? Where does it come from? What does it feel like? Is it different now than it once was? Does it depend on where you are, what you hope for?

What do you think paradise was for that other man on the cross? Perhaps a return to simpler times was not a thought he could comprehend, on account of growing up under the oppression of Rome. Always expecting to be chased or killed, to be erased and spat upon, living as a perpetual outcast, I'd imagine this particular man probably envisioned paradise far more differently than you or I. Probably he looked at paradise in more the way that a Syrian refugee might envision salvation. Or somebody who has survived so-called 'conversion therapy.' Or the way millions of Muslims imagine paradise, as simply living in peace without being attacked. Simply being allowed to breathe without harassment. Being able to provide for a family and feel connected to the surrounding community. 

When Jesus was killed by crucifixion, it was humanity’s attempt to throw him as far from paradise as we could. To leave him naked and exposed out in the elements, separated from the ground he had walked on and the people he had walked with. To make him easy to point out, easy to shame, easy to target as a scapegoat for all of our anger and every problem we’ve ever had. Rome didn’t need to take responsibility for the poverty they brought upon Israel as long as they took those who spoke up against oppression and made examples of them by crucifixion. 

Crucifixion is a slow death, but not as slow as many other ways we have of killing each other. Crucifixion is slow in order to be humiliating, to control those who are seen as ‘different,’ seen as a threat to the current powers. We in this day and age use other tools for the same purpose: tools like cat calling, job and housing discrimination, stop and frisk, lynching, and internment camps. These tools teach people they are less than people, they teach people to keep their heads down and their mouths shut, they teach people to be afraid of their own selves and suspicious of one another. So when you grow up under constant threat of these weapons of cultural control, the image and hope of 'paradise' can be as simple as making it home alive at the end of the day. Being able to walk down the street without being haunted by anxiety. Going to bed at night free of regret. So the image of Paradise can also be an image of justice, of a return to balance, of finally, fully, knowing your own self as sacred, as holy, and whole.

The criminal hanging on that cross beside Jesus, the one who actually used his name instead of throwing names and jeers, he knew that he was being punished for an actual crime, even though that punishment was most likely far more severe than he deserved. Rome was, as one commentary put it, far more invested in vengeance than in reconciliation. Actually, the commentator described our current justice system that way, but in many respects it can be hard to tell the difference sometimes, especially once you’ve been beaten with the short end of the stick. So the criminal who knew his crimes also knew that Jesus had not done anything wrong, but was still being crucified. His very existence, then, must have somehow been a threat to the authorities. How could a person be so dangerous that he could threaten the Romans and the religious leaders without even committing a crime?

Friends, this is the one we call Christ the King. The one we call God With Us, God Incarnate, God of the ages, merciful, mighty, creator, redeemer. He lived in such freedom that he inspired that freedom in those who came to him, even to the point of offering hope to someone hanging on a cross in the position of ultimate shame and humiliation. Crucifixion was to break the spirit not only of the person being publicly killed, but of anyone who entertained the thought of emulating that one. Yet here he was, being mocked and ridiculed, still offering hope and comfort to a fellow condemned person.

King of the condemned, he is. Lord of the outcast. Ruler of the thrown away and despised. Lover of the hated. Hope of the despairing. God with us is not here to condemn Muslims or women who have had abortions or veterans with PTSD, but to condemn condemnation itself. God is not come to destroy Mexicans or refugees or even the competition, but to destroy the powers of destruction that try to tear us apart. God is not going to avoid our pain or dress it up and put it on display for pity’s sake, not going to take a quick field trip to make us feel better about ourselves, but will hang next to us, will sit in our condemnation with us, will walk out of it with us, wearing our scars for a crown. Because that is what a king worthy of worship does. That is the kind of Paradise to which God calls us, where each and every person is valued and protected and loved. Where Jeremiah’s words ring true: “I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the LORD. The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. And this is the name by which he will be called: “The LORD is our righteousness.”

This image from Jeremiah illustrates the Kingdom of Jesus which we confess in our creed will have no end. None shall be afraid. None shall be missing. Not one. Not one Muslim, nor one Jew, nor one woman, nor one child. And that, my friends, is paradise. 

End of the world

Malachi 4:1-2a

Psalm 98

2 Thessalonians 3:6-13

Luke 21:5-19

See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the LORD of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.

Sing a new song to the LORD, who has done marvelous things, whose right hand and holy arm have won the victory. O LORD, you have made known your victory, you have revealed your righteousness in the sight of the nations. You remember your steadfast love and faithfulness too the house of Israel; all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God. Shout with joy to the LORD, all you lands; lift up your voice, rejoice, and sing. Sing to the LORD with the harp, with the harp and the voice of song. With trumpets and the sound of the horn shout with joy before the king, the LORD. Let the sea roar, and all that fills it, the world and those who dwell therein. Let the rivers clap their hands, and let the hills ring out with joy before the LORD, who comes to judge the earth. The LORD will judge the world with righteousness and the peoples with equity.

Now we command you, beloved, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to keep away from believers who are living in idleness and not according to the tradition that they received form us. For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone’s bread without paying fir it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you. This was not because we do not have that right, but in order to give you an example to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this command: Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living in idelenss, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we commend and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right.

When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, Jesus said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and ‘The time is near!’’ Do not go after them. When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earth quakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your soul.”

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It sounds like the end of the world, doesn’t it? Insurrections, nations rising up in war, earth quakes, famines and plagues… my father is one who is sure Jesus is returning soon, that we are in the end times. But Luke was writing about an experience the people had already had, because he was writing after those stones of the temple had already been torn down. And historical tragedies on the scale of ‘the end of the world’ happen far more frequently than we would like to think about. Of course, it depends on where you land in the metaphorical pyramid if you would experience the end of the world as hope or as anxiety. But the world is ending all the time. For at least half of the country, this feeling of fear is very real right now. Just this week at the University of Albany, somebody drew a swastika on the Dutch Quad, guys on the Colonial Quad were yelling Trump’s now-famous ‘grab her’ line, another Muslim student was harassed, and threats of rape were made to a woman wearing a Bernie pin. People of color are being told to get to the back of the bus by bus drivers in New York City. As ugly as this election has been, as polarizing, as dehumanizing, we have yet to see the ultimate outcome of it, but in many ways it is another end of the world, isn't it? Major leadership changes always are some kind of ending and new beginning. Some of us somehow think this is God’s justice on the world, some of us are still begging for that justice. Some already feel betrayed by parents and relatives. Jesus’ words to his disciples are pretty relevant today, despite their being written almost two thousand years ago. 

But the way this Gospel is put together, Jesus speaks these words while on his way to die. He knows he will be one of the ones who is betrayed and put to death. And he does not turn away from it, because he is committed to his cause, dedicated to his values, and refuses to return evil for evil. It seems weird that Luke has him saying, within the same two sentences, both that ‘they will put some of you to death,’ and that ‘not a hair of your head will perish.’ But somehow the author of this Gospel finds hope in this and wishes to share it with his readers. Somehow the whole end of the world experience that Luke has just lived through makes him very aware that, even though the world as he knew it came to an end, the sun still came up again, the cycles of day and night did not end, and the integrity of those who claimed faith holds them together through the end of everything they knew. He does not offer this passage in light and fluffy Hallmark hope, where if we just pretend everything’s pretty and wonderful it will be, he does not simply offer ‘thoughts and prayers’ to those in distress, but he offers this testimony it as a survivor of this terrible series of compounded violence upon hatred upon even more violence. He writes this Gospel to tell his listeners “I lived through this and you can, too.”

So what does your life depend on? What values do build upon? What source of hope and strength and light guides you through times of major upheaval? And how does that give you strength to love? Nobody else can answer that question for you, and we can’t set that hope on any human ruler or authority, either. Because, as we know, people change and positions of power trade hands often. We need to set our hope on something solid, friends. Something bigger than ourselves. And it’s not the government. And it’s not our race. And it’s not assimilation. And it’s not a wall. And it’s not our job security. And it’s not healthcare benefits or retirement accounts or the current state of the stock market. And it’s not the church, either. If it ever becomes the church that we put our trust in, we are lost, because the church is still a human institution. We can’t live with somebody or some group telling us how to avoid judgment and conflict, we’ve got to think and decide for ourselves.

Which brings me to comedy and poetry. Because sometimes when I'm looking for answers and Scripture seems too familiar and borders on sounding trite - which it does sometimes, the way we use it for Hallmark cards and cute posters - I look to modern day prophets, many of whom are comedians and poets. One comedian in particular this week is sister to the woman who preached at my Ordination. She writes for the Late Show with Seth Meyers, and she is fantastic. This week she had a few things to say to those who were disappointed in the outcome, who had become wary of their neighbors and fearful for their safety: First, she let us know that if we are white and surprised about racism in this country, we could just “join the fun,” because people who’ve received firsthand experience of racism have always known our country has thrived on it. And if this surprises any of us, we’re not paying attention. And if our faith doesn’t tell us to pay attention, we’re not paying attention. But then Amber said something very serious: 

“The thought of someone believing you deserve fewer rights because of who you are is depressing. But then you realize that by doing what you do everyday you prove to them that you’re unstoppable. They can spend their time trying to pass laws to take away your rights and silence your voice. But all you have to do is live your lives right in their faces. And it proves that we simply cannot be stopped.”

In a world that seems to be ending, in the last days of whatever struggles we might be facing, politically or personally, just living, just seeking to live with integrity, just being who we are is a victory. We seek to heal, to love, to serve, to walk in the ways of Christ to our best ability, and we lean on each other for support in the work which lies ahead and within. Keeping our Muslim brothers and sisters safe, calling out the sexism that haunts so many women even as close as Albany University, trying to make sense of the swasticas showing up on public property as though they have become acceptable, these things are how we live into our identities as people created in the Image of God, seeking to honor that Image in each and every person around us, no matter their skin color, national origin, gender, or religion. Our faith calls us to live this reality, brothers and sisters, this reality that love conquers fear no matter how big the fear grows. That’s the message of a faith built on the Incarnation of God come to dwell with us in our very own flesh, bleeding the same blood, sweating the same sweat, weeping the same salty tears.

The power of God is revealed in the audacity to remain true to self and survive the end of the world. It beautifully comes through in Maya Angelou’s poem, “Still I Rise,” so I want to share with you the last stanza, recalling to mind the images from today’s Gospel reading that are so full of fear of the end of the world. Nation rising against nation. Family betraying itself. Earthquakes and hate and imprisonment and beatings. Try to hear Angelou’s words from the perspective of this Gospel, from someone who has felt their entire life threatened, who has lived through many world-endings, who has learned to live in that power of the integrity of self and strength of purpose to survive, who was a living Image of God:

“Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,

welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.”

Sodom and Zacchaeus

Isaiah 1:10-18

Hear the word of the LORD, you rulers of Sodom! Listen to the teaching of our God, you people of Gomorrah! What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the Lord; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. When you come to appear before me, who asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation - I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity. Your new moons and your appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to of good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow. Come now, let us argue it out, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become wool.

Psalm 32:1-7

Happy are they whose transgressions are forgiven, and whose sin is put away! Happy are they to whom the LORD imputes no guilt, and in whose spirit there is no guile! While I held my tongue, my bones withered away, because of my groaning all day long. For your hand was heavy upon me day and night; my moisture was dried up as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not conceal my guilt. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD.”  Then you forgave me the guilt of my sin. Therefore all the faithful will make their prayers to you in time of trouble; when the great waters overflow, they shall not reach them. You are my hiding place; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.

2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12

Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, to the church of the Thessalonians in God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. We must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of every one of you for one another is increasing. Therefore we ourselves boast of you among the churches of God for your steadfastness and faith during all your persecutions and the afflictions that you are enduring. To this end we always pray for you, asking that our God will make you worthy of his call and will fulfill by his power every good resolve and work of faith, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Luke 19:1-10

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.” Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

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It would sure be convenient not to have had the first reading this morning about Soddom and Gomorrah, just to focus on the cute children’s song about Zacchaeus, the ‘wee little man,’ who climbed up a tree, but it would be irresponsible to ignore the prophet Isaiah today. Not only today, of course, but my own context as a member of the LGBTQ community means that I cannot ignore a story showing up in the lectionary that has been used against my people for too long. It’s one of those trigger stories because of how it’s been weaponized. We know the Bible can be used as a weapon, we hear it being used as a weapon still, even quietly when we simply tolerate difference. Zacchaeus sure knew how scripture could be turned against a person. We had a tax collector in last week’s parable of the tax collector and the Pharisee at prayer, and here is a real-life encounter Jesus has with a man who makes his living by gathering money from his own people to pay those who colonized and sought to erase his culture and history with violence and threats of violence.

Religion has used power for centuries to oppress and control, just like any other human institution which seeks to organize and impose authority. Whether we’re fighting over land or food or ideals, we’ve seen and known a history of violence for far too long, often using religion as the excuse to back up our personal fears, rather than as it should be, which is to set us free from those fears.

This is the reason prophets like Isaiah are so relevant today, because we keep repeating history and need the reminders again and again that we have nothing to be afraid of. See, Soddom and Gomorrah were completely awful to guests and travelers, to those in need and those who sought sanctuary within their borders. Their sin was not homosexuality, as many have said, but their will to violate outsiders and devalue their own who did not make them comfortable, either by class or gender or economy. The way the story of Sododm and Gomorrah has been turned against my people has turned those who use it into violently inhospitable Sodomites themselves. Ironic, isn’t it? Every time we try and use scripture to exclude other people from God’s vision and God’s kingdom, we cut ourselves out of that vision. Because the kingdom of God is all-inclusive, values every single life, and does not depend on uniformity or assimilation to function. God made a world of space for diversity and curiosity and seeing one another as we are rather than as we would want others to be for our own ease. Somehow we decided we could order the world better on our own terms, and in came the black and white thinking of either/or extremes, shutting down community for the sake of efficiency and shame-laden competition. How can we learn to actually see one another if we insist on these externally-imposed definitions of who is acceptable and who isn’t?

When Zacchaeus climbed that tree to see Jesus, it was to get his own contact with God that the community around him did not allow him to have. They did not make room for him in the crowd, they did not take his shortness of stature into account, they saw only the tax collector, and not the child of Abraham’s covenant with the Divine. God, however, saw Zacchaeus, and Zacchaeus’ own home became a sanctuary for the very God his neighbors claimed to serve by excluding him. He may not have been socially acceptable to his community, they may have been terribly offended at Jesus’ decision to eat with ‘that sinner,’ but ‘that sinner’ was as much a child of God as any of them, indeed behaving more like one of Abraham’s offspring than those who would exclude him on account of their piety.

When the people of God gather, there are always more people present than we see, always more voices than we hear, always more history than we are aware of. God’s kingdom is bigger than our imaginations of what it should or could or might be. And the Spirit of God is constantly working in and among us to unchain us from our fears and set us free from our anxieties. Our God is a God of salvation, and the judgment we fear is only that we might have wasted our living on being afraid of dying, killing ourselves and one another in an effort to protect ourselves from some false threats of being wrong or less right or not good enough to love and value. Jesus went to be the guest of a man whose reputation was tarnished by his neighbors’ insistence on imposed and impossible social perfection. Jesus made himself vulnerable to loving those who considered themselves insiders and to those who were made outsiders. Wherever you find yourself on that spectrum these days, whatever you are afraid of losing or never even accessing, your value and worth lie not in your piety or religiosity but in the love which has already been poured out for you, the love which died at the hands of our fears to take those fears to the grave, the love which comes to us in so many different forms and kinds and colors that we are never without it even when we refuse it.

Whatever your context, God lives in that real space and time alongside you and within you. Whatever your fears about being good enough or right enough, God is bigger than those fears. Whatever you struggle to accept, either in yourself or in others, remember God who created the world in the beginning called it good and blessed it. We do not have to live in a world that runs on divisiveness and suspicion of others, of ranking people good to bad, because the sacrifice of God on the cross showed us both the outcome of that path and the hope of a reality greater, the promise of resurrection and new life and second chances and reconciliation. We, too, are children of the covenant, and God’s prophets speak to us today as much as to their own time, of a vision that sustains our hope in God’s promised future come to us in the here and now.

Reformation

The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt - a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the LORD. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, said the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the LORD,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, said the LORD; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be moved, and though the mountains shake in the depths of the sea; though its waters rage and foam, and 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 shaken; God shall help it at the break of day. The nations rage, and the kingdoms shale; God speaks, and the earth melts away. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. Come now, regard the works of the LORD, what desolations God has brought upon the earth; behold the one who makes war to cease in all the world; who breaks the bow, and shatters the spear, and burns the shields with fire. “Be still, then, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth.” The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.

Now we know that whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For “no human being will be justified in his sight” by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin. But now, apart from law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed, and is attested by the law and the prophets, the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus. Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. By what law? By that of works? No, but by the law of faith. For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.

Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you remain in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” They answered him, “We are descendants ofAbraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, “You will be made free”?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the household; the son remains there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

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What would your life look like without the law? Without any rules about how you ‘should’ behave, nobody telling you what was ‘proper’ or ‘acceptable,’ for your age or gender or social class? What would life be like without the pressure of legalism or the shame of pietism?

See, religion has earned the reputation of being all about the law. Who has what rights to sit where, to be comfortable and welcome where, and how do we know who’s ‘acceptable’? Whose church is this? Whose pew? Whose organ? Who decides what happens to the money, to the building, to the liturgy? Seriously. And that’s not even getting to the question of who deserves to be buried in the church graveyard. Law after law after rule after assumption after judgment… 

Then again, what about traffic laws? Dietary recommendations? Are we really so unaware of ourselves and our surroundings that we need the threat of punishment for making decisions on the daily? People can be both better and worse than we give them credit for, but the compassion that rises out of freedom, the passion of the Holy Spirit toward leading us all to freedom, surpasses all the legalism and pietism that we impose on ourselves and on each other.

Since it's Reformation Day weekend, we recall as Lutherans the movement of God that led Luther to question and counter the legalism of the church in his day. Threats of Hell and Purgatory bombarded the people, and only the priests had the education, the authority, and resources to be able to say anything about how people ought to be living according to their view on God’s will. But science was not being trusted by people of faith, and poverty and sickness tore at communities, while the institutional church decided a good road to take would be to overtax the poor so they could build big impressive buildings. The Law was abused in service of greed, and the needs of God’s living, suffering, people were ignored. Luther had internalized all of that guilt and law from his youth and young adulthood, and so believed more in the terror and damnation of God than in the grace or mercy or even the righteous passionate love of God. He put on the monk’s robes as insurance against his fear of judgment, because apparently it promised salvation to make such a sacrifice, but it did not soothe his anxiety. In fact, Luther lived in constant fear of never being good enough for God’s forgiveness and love, until he saw the abuse poured out on the poor who struggled to stay alive while being pressed to give their livelihoods to the church as a way to purchase salvation, and he in his distress came to this reading from Romans which put all of humanity into the same boat. All have fallen short, therefore all must be justified freely as a gift, because none can earn righteousness, he found.

This was huge. This took the crushing abuse of the Law and turned it into fertilizer for the garden of grace. And not only was it a stunning revelation of hope for Luther, but since the printing press had just been invented, it was possible for any who had even the slightest sliver of literacy to read his arguments against the church’s abuses and in favor of honoring a more merciful and forgiving God. Then of course those who had grown tired of those power games had their own diversity of responses to this growing reformation, some turning to revolution and revolt and even to violence once they knew the chains they had been carrying were false. Can we blame them? Of course not! All those years of fear and anger and pain getting pent up, hidden away under the rules that had to be followed for salvation, and suddenly the floodgates were open and the barrier between people and God, in the form of priests at the time who were not exactly righteous themselves, that dividing wall had to come down again, and it stirred more than a few people to action.

We’ve always been building up walls even when God tears them down, time after time. We make it so hard to feel loved, and accepted, and validated, when our laws prescribe how we ought to feel and act and think if we want to be ‘good Christians,’ or even good people worthy of salvation. But the truth of Jesus remains with us, and we remain in that truth of the Gospel through our fellowship and study and through the challenges of daily living with other people who are different than we are. The Spirit of God blows through the world in ways we cannot always anticipate, surprising us with love and forgiveness in unexpected places and people, while also confronting us in places of comfort so that our hearts may be open to growth and new life, over and over again.

When the truth sets us free, then, free from the law and from the threats of punishment, it means we can remove our masks of always being ‘good’ or ‘nice’ or ‘righteous,’ and be honest with ourselves and each other about the things that frighten us, because they have no real power over our eternal souls. When the truth sets us free, it frees us from all kinds of chains and laws and walls that we put up to set ‘us’ apart from ‘them.’ Because in Christ there are no dividing walls anymore, not even between parts of our own selves that we like and those parts of which we are embarrassed. The marriage contract between us and our God is not written on paper for debate and academic discourse, but on our hearts, where we know how we would like to be loved and where we must remember how much more God loves us than we can even perceive or make sense of most days. Brothers and sisters, we live in this complicated mess of freedom and captivity, experiencing the back and forth between good days and bad days, but our ultimate reality is the relationship between God and the world which is a promise of faithfulness and resurrection. The ultimate reality is that there are new beginnings, that the law is not the thing which defines us or contains us. This is God’s free gift to us. To each and every one of us. And it is setting the entire cosmos free. 

high or low but all together

Sirach 35:12-17

Give to the Most High as he has given to you, and as generously as you can afford. For the Lord is the one who repays, and he will repay you sevenfold. Do not offer him a bribe, for he will not accept it; and do not rely on a dishonest sacrifice; for the Lord is the judge, and with him there is no partiality. He will not show partiality to the poor; but he will listen to the prayer of one who is wronged. He will not ignore the supplication of the orphan, or the widow when she pours out her complaint.

Psalm 84:1-7

How dear to me is your dwelling, O LORD of hosts! My soul has a desire and longing for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young, by the side of your altars, O LORD of hosts, my king and my God. Happy are they who dwell in your house! They will always be praising you. Happy are the people whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on the pilgrims’ way. Those who go through the balsam valley will find it a place of springs, for the early rains have covered it with pools of water. They will climb from height to height, and the God of gods will be seen in Zion.

2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18

As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing… At my first defense no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be counted against them! But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and save me for his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating at his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

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This weekend some of my friends are gathering in Chicago with a great many others to do some work called “Dec-colonizing.”  What does this mean? It means there are a great many cultural minorities within the Lutheran church who have decided the centuries of assumptions about what it means to be Lutheran have actually been sucking this church dry of its Gospel power, and they are re-claiming the radical hospitality and world-shaking possibilities that are alive and active in the Good News of Jesus Christ. While they are there this weekend, Westboro Baptist Church is across the street protesting at University of Chicago. You know Westboro Baptist, right? They protest at Marine funerals, they have all those picket signs about who God hates, they call down God’s wrath upon just about anybody who isn’t them. Now I know that while I was in Chicago at seminary there were many of us who were very proud to say that we are most definitely NOT affiliated with Westboro Baptist, yet it has only been a year or two since someone in the seminary community wrote the words “white power” on the pane glass windows of the seminary cafeteria, during Black History Month. We may not be Westboro Baptist, but we have a long way to go to get to where we need to be.

It’s our nature, though, isn’t it, to compare ourselves to others in order to feel good about ourselves. How many of us even hear this parable today of the Pharisee and the tax collector and say to ourselves, “well, at least I’m not a Pharisee.” Or maybe we’d like to be as lawful and religiously righteous as the Pharisees nowadays. It’s complicated, after all, isn’t it? We’re Pharisees sometimes, and sometimes we’re tax collectors. The opening to the parable tells us right off what the point is: regarding others with contempt is not the way of God’s kingdom. But even the most religious among us fall into this trap. 

Looking at the ways we try to grow churches today, welcoming outsiders or making our mission as clear as a bell, we are already stuck, like both the Pharisee and the tax collector, in this “us and them” system, this “insider/outsider” mentality. It’s the snag that gets in the way of the Gospel, the shame of being different, the dehumanizing of those with whom we disagree just so we can feel superior, or at the very least, safe.

We see this all the time, especially in church culture. That old song “they will know we are Christians by our love” is laughable to anyone who has ever been hurt by the church, and yet when hurt happens, we try our best to distance ourselves from it, thanking God that at least we’re not ‘those terrible Christians,’ because ‘we’re different,’ right? We don’t actively kill black people here in this congregation. We don’t support so-called ‘reparative therapy,’ or tell certain groups of people that they’re going to hell. No way, no how. At least we’re not ‘those’ Christians. But what about those of us who are? Setting ourselves apart is only going to set up barriers to real reconciliation. Cutting off a part of the body of Christ because it feels easier than confronting our own pain and privilege leads to more damage being done, not to healing.

That’s what the tax collector in the temple seemed to understand. “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” he prayed. One of this week’s commentaries noticed the complexity of being a tax collector in those days. It wasn’t just black and white, good and bad, in a situation where oppression and shame came from both the colonizing culture and the religious authorities. That tax collector must have felt so stuck in his situation, working to feed his family while at the same time knowing that work took advantage of his own community. And naming the struggle is half, is most of, the battle, isn’t it? From the Pharisee’s willful blindness we have the contrast of the tax gatherer’s painfully clear vision of things as they were. It’s the way Luther talks about the Theology of the Cross, calling a thing what it is. Call a spade a spade. Call injustice injustice. Don’t offer a dishonest sacrifice, or sugar-coat it with “well, it’s not as bad as it could be,” or “at least we’re not Westboro Baptist Church.”

Because making excuses for the awful ways we mistreat each other or avoid confronting those mistreatments is equivalent to giving them our consent. Staying silent in the locker room when somebody makes a sexist comment is offering support to the guy who dares to talk about a woman like her worth is his alone to judge. Keeping quiet in the break room when people make jokes about violence against Muslims only offers support to the violent. And naming our part in these silences is so painful. I was part of a panel last week that perpetuated a lot of misinformation about the LGBTQ community, because I thought it could be a good thing, I really wanted to be part of a church that was better than the stereotype, and I refused to see the ways it was set up poorly from the start, on account of my own wanting to prove that “at least we’re not Westboro Baptist Church.” Sure, we meant well, but we were under informed to begin with and told a lot of the same stories one might find on a very quick internet search of “gays and Christianity.” It was more than awkward to be on that panel, more awkward than when I came out here almost two years ago. And it didn’t have to be, but because I refused the advice of those who saw more clearly than I where the cracks in our system are, I got myself stuck.

So how do we find healing and strength for this work of having our eyes open to one another and to ourselves when we continue to isolate from each other, to name call and point fingers and interrupt and avoid? I mean, there’s a good reason Paul says he has fought the good fight, not that he has avoided trouble well. He was imprisoned often for his proclamation of the Gospel, and even though we Christians in this country have a lot of assumed power, breaking out of those assumptions into actual freedom for everybody is not an easy task, especially for we who are in the positions of cultural privilege.

God have mercy on us all who are living in these systems of fear and suspicion, because whether we’re top dog or scraping the bottom of the barrel, we’re all in this together. The mercy and grace of God is that we have each other’s lives as witness to realities outside of our own limited experiences. It is good news that the world God made is large and diverse and creative and beautiful and painful and always being made new. The good news is that we are still alive, still have time to turn walls into bridges, still have prophetic voices among us like those at the Decolonize event this weekend in Chicago, and even here among us in Chatham, who are brave and passionate and guided by the Spirit of resurrection, turning over the tables of death and uncovering springs of living waters.

God have mercy on us all who are living in complicated times, interesting times, who have decisions to make not only about governments but about the smaller, day-to-day micro-aggressions and little injustices all around, those things ‘done and left undone, said and left unsaid.’ It is good news that God has given us each other in these days, for challenge and for freedom. That the Christ, the God enfleshed who lives among us, does not let us go on our way willfully ignorant, but wakes his disciples up to the world around us. So that we may live in the world fully engaged with our neighbors and fully alive without fear of judgment or shame. The forgiveness and mercy of God comes in these gifts of one another, these opportunities to work together for justice, these new beginnings that our world is full of, morning after morning, day after day. We are all in this together, disciples of the crucified and risen lord Jesus. Never alone, never forgotten, always receiving new life.

Prisoner of war, living in freedom

2 Kings 5:1-15c

Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had granted victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. Now the Aramaeans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, ‘If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.’ So Naaman went in and told the king just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. And the king of Syria said, “Go, now, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel. So he went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. And the brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, ‘When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.’ When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, ‘Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.’ But when Elisha, the man of God, heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, ‘Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” So Naaman came, with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying ‘Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.’ But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, and would wave his hand over the spot and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, far better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean. Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stop before him and said, ‘Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.”

Psalm 111

Hallelujah! I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, in the congregation. Great are your works, O LORD, pondered by all who delight in them. Majesty and splendor mark your deeds, and your righteousness endures forever. You cause your wonders to be remembered; you are gracious and full of compassion. You give food to those who fear you, remembering forever your covenant. You have shown your people the power of your works in giving them the lands of the nations. The works of your hands are faithfulness and justice; all of your precepts are sure. They stand fast forever and ever, because they are done in truth and equity. You sent redemption to your people and commanded your covenant forever; holy and awesome is your name. The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; all who practice this have a good understanding. God’s praise endures forever.

2 Timothy 2:8-15

Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David - that is my gospel, for which I suffer hardship, even to the point of being chained like a criminal. But the word of God is not chained. Therefore I endure everything for the sake of the elect, so that they may also obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory. This saying is sure: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he will also deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful - for he cannot deny himself. Remind them of this, and warn them before God that they are to avoid wrangling over words, which does not good but only ruins those who are listening. Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved by him, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly explaining the word of truth.

Luke 17:11-19

On the way to Jerusalem, Jesus  was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ When he saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, ‘Where not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

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Kindred in Christ, it would be worse than neglectful if I didn’t name the recent big news this morning. Now, I’m not pretending to be political, though I can’t say I don’t care who you vote for, but republicans or democrats of independents aside, we have got to address the rampant rape culture in this country. We can do all kinds of pointing of the finger against ‘those’ people, rather we claim it’s some supposed evils of radical Islam being all against women’s rights, or we pretend the problems of misogyny belong to somebody else. But the tapes released this week of Trump talking about sexual assault like he’s ordering a sandwich, and the amount of support he is still getting, the excuses being made that this is just ‘locker room talk,’ or it’s just ‘men will be men,’ reveal again that we have in this country a serious problem with sexism, and it is absolutely not okay.

Does anybody remember when Obama was first running against Hillary for the Democratic nomination? The conversation in Hyde Park, Chicago, where I was living at the time, were around whether it was more socially acceptable to be racist or to be sexist. We’ve seen that both issues are really big, and if we can’t name them we can’t deal with them. Now we’re trying to excuse this mess, pretend it took us by surprise. But one in three women in this country has been sexually assaulted. One in three. And most of that happens before they are even adults. Why in the world do we allow this world to continue in this way? Half of the human population is being treated like property, like entertainment, like disposable commodities. It doesn’t matter that a woman might be somebody’s wife or mother, whose daughter she is, a woman is her own person, and to treat her any less is to deny the Image of God, to spit in the face of the God who made her.

So today we have a story from the First Testament where a woman who has been stolen from her homeland as the spoils of war basically saves the life of the man who basically destroyed her life. Did you notice her there in the folds of the narrative? She was only briefly mentioned, but it’s very important that she was there. “Now the Aramaeans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife.” Did you hear that? The Aramaeans were Israel’s enemies, had abducted and scattered God’s people, and here one of the girls they stole, and probably abused as a sign of victory during their conquest, here she is declaring the power of her God to the very people who tried to tear her away from that God by stealing her from her culture and her people by force. 

It might seem like the ‘man of God,’ Elisha, is the hero of the story. He is, after all, the one who proclaims the word that sets Naaman on the healing path. Naaman is used to getting five star treatment, having the red carpet rolled out for him, and he’s none too happy that Elisha only sends a servant with a word for a simple thing. Naaman is used to getting what he wants, getting a spotlight, being the most important and powerful one in the room. Even with leprosy he commands a certain respect. He was important enough for his king to send him to the king of the country they had conquered, which is quite an admission of powerlessness and had to be embarrassing. But without that girl they had stolen, none of this healing would have come about. Without the dressing room conversations of the women, none of this story would have happened.

See, our Scriptures aren’t angled toward the full inclusion of women as equal human beings, that’s how we’ve gotten away with making women second-class for so many generations. That’s what you get when a bunch of men with narrow world views, under social pressure and with assumed power, put the books together and decide what’s true and what’s worthwhile. But every now and again we find stories of strong women heroes among the mix, even when they’ve been ignored or mistreated. If you read with an eye to where the women are and where they’ve been left out, you’ll find a lot more than we’ve been led to believe. You might also be surprised at how little is there, which is why we need to lift up those missing voices as often as possible. Not only women, but any minority group, any outcast people, any colonized group. Tomorrow has been called Columbus Day since the late 18th century, but lately folks are remembering that it’s a day named after a man who brought about the destruction of an entire nation of people. In fact, our national church body made public repudiation of the so-called ‘Doctrine of Discovery’ this past summer, and cities across the country are re-directing the holiday toward an Indigenous People’s Day celebration.

Because our God is no respecter of persons, but God does stand on the side of the oppressed. Just when we think we know who’s in and who’s out, we are reminded by Paul in his second letter to Timothy, that “the word of God is not chained.” We cannot contain where grace and mercy begin and end, who is considered ‘worthy,’ who ‘deserves’ healing. That’s happening here in the story of Naaman, here. God’s own chosen people have been overrun and scattered by an enemy nation - a fate they were well warned about because they were awful to the widows and orphans, to the poor and outcast among them - and God not only used the so-called ‘enemy’ to finally bring about justice, God did not withhold healing salvation even from Naaman, who would to the Israelites be called a terrorist today. God even used one of the prisoners of war to bring about that salvation.

Maybe it's the ones who have been outcast by society who are more aware of God’s mercy and welcome. The ones with nothing left to lose. The ones who have already been thrown away who understand what value there really is in belonging without earning. If you didn’t have any of the things you measure your worth by today, job or family or community or history or whatever, do you understand that you would still belong to the kingdom of God? None of those things that we find our power in are actually where our power comes from. No amount of privilege or authority can determine our salvation. If we depend on privilege or authority to save us, we’ll be lost, we’ll lose ourselves and our connection to the rest of God’s people. Because power and authority fluctuate, standards change, but the power of God to create and heal and save is not dependent on the changing tides of our beliefs or behaviors or moods at the moment. It does not go in and out of style. 

People of God, the life we are created for, the world we partner with God to recreate each day, is rooted and grounded in that promise of steadfast love, that bigger-than-us truth for the salvation of the entire cosmos, including all of humanity. We do not own one another like property to be pushed around and used for entertainment without our consent, but we do belong to each other. We do not have the power to erect lasting barriers between types of people based on our whims and traditions of segregation. God does not respect those divisions between us. God will see to it that the outcast are made central, again and again, even if we do not acknowledge it openly. God lives among the trafficked, among the abused, among the homeless and those who have been thrown away by our arbitrary standards of value. That is who Jesus was, who Jesus is, as a refugee and as a political figure standing against both the oppression of the Romans and the pure-blood pieties of his own religious leaders.

We are part of this story, friends, like it or not. We are part of this salvation history in the here and now. What does this new reality look like in your life?