Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
December 1, 2024
 
“The Day is Coming”
 
Malachi 4: 1-2 – Common English Bible
 Look, the day is coming,
        burning like an oven.
All the arrogant ones and all those doing evil will become straw.
    The coming day will burn them,
says the Lord of heavenly forces,
        leaving them neither root nor branch.
2 But the sun of righteousness will rise on those revering my name;
        healing will be in its wings
            so that you will go forth and jump about like calves in the stall.
 
  
Cheerful, isn’t it!?  “The day is coming when all the arrogant ones and all those doing evil with become straw.”  Would you like to hear an even more cheerful translation?  “The day is coming when all the arrogant people who do evil things will be burned up like wood for the stove, burned to a crisp, nothing left but scorched earth and ash.”
 
Yikes!  Let’s check out the gospel instead:  “There will be signs in the sun, moon, and stars.  On the earth, there will be dismay among nations in their confusion over the roaring of the sea and surging waves.  The planets and other heavenly bodies will be shaken, causing people to faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world.”  Now that I’ve properly gotten you into the Christmas spirit, ho, ho, ho…
 
It seems so strange that a season which ends with beautiful, tranquil scenes of a silent night and a baby laid in a manger surrounded by angels singing “Hark!” and shepherds tending their flocks while Zoroastrians pack their bags for a journey Eastward…  Strange, yes, but that’s how Advent begins – with violent imagery and Mad Max apocalyptic end of the world scenes straight out of the minds of Hollywood directors.
 
Last week’s gospel proclaimed the day is coming when not one stone of the temple will be left upon another, prophesying its destruction and adding fodder for those already plotting to execute Jesus.  What he describes is terrifying – he foretells false prophets, doomsday deceivers, wars and rumors of war and uprisings, food shortages, natural disasters, persecution, and epidemics. 
 
Sadly, we know these are not simply scenes from a movie but the steady news feed on our phones and the pages of the daily newspaper.  For those suffering in the world today, Jesus doesn’t talk in hyperbole but gives voice to their dreadful reality – in Gaza and refugees fleeing war around the globe, for waiting hostages and the repeated victims of collapsing eco-systems, a climate wreaking havoc with 500 year floods every 5 years next to year after year record-breaking extreme heat.  To this reality, Jesus speaks truth. 
 
And this is how Advent begins every year, but we often avoid such texts because they are embarrassing and deeply incongruent with our understanding of the world.  Renowned scholar Walter Bruggeman calls Malachi’s words about crispy people “intellectually difficult and pastorally problematic.  None of us want to sound like a religious nut.  And yet, for all our intellectual sophistication, our affluence and confidence that technology will fix the world, there remains a deep, unsettled feeling that things are indeed falling apart.”  He called it the “terrible ungluing.” 
 
This was not his assessment of the last few weeks or the last few years but something he wrote 32 years ago.  About texts written thousands of years before.  We may have vastly different worldviews and understandings of how the world works, but, real-time suffering as well as fear and anxiety about the state of the world is a constant for humankind.  That’s the reality where Advent begins.  Where we end up is often vastly different.
 
Progressive Christians focus on an eschatology – a vision of the end – in which the world finally comes together in peace, justice, and harmony.  Other Christians describe the end in catastrophe, an often-desired end which ushers in the return of Jesus for the faithful and the saved but fire and brimstone for others, i.e., when the evil ones are burned to a crisp, nothing left but scorched earth and ash.  Ho, ho, ho.
 
Advent begins in this terrible reality, and then asks, where do we find hope?  For progressive Christians, it’s “not in some pie in the sky bye and bye when we die, but something sound on the ground while we’re still around.”  That’s one of my favorite descriptions by UCC pastor Kenneth Samuel.  The day is coming:  not in heaven, but as Jesus taught to us pray, on earth, as it is in heaven. 
 
So, what was going on that the had the prophet Malachi so upset?

• First of all, it was the priests.  When people brought their sacrifices to the temple, they were supposed to only bring their best, animals without any blemish.  But they were bringing their blind and sick animals.  The clergy, however, didn’t care as long as they were getting paid.
• There were some issues related to mixed marriages that are a lot more complicated than I can get into here.  And a problem with women left destitute by divorce.
• Malachi complained that people were not being paid their fair wage – Malachi is a good Labor Day text.
• And like the all the other prophets, the same consistent theme over and over throughout scripture:  not caring about widows, orphans, immigrants and foreigners – because that doesn’t show proper respect for God.
• People were also complaining that their religion was a waste of time because evil people still prospered.  They should suffer.

 
The details behind Malachi’s rant are remarkably relevant, though people burned to a crisp seems a little severe, but it certainly gets our attention. 
 
In the midst of deep, unsettled feelings that things are indeed falling apart, what is the most hopeful thing we can do?  I love the advice of the founder of Methodism, John Wesley:
Do all the good you can
By all the means you can
In all the ways you can
In all the places you can
At all the times you can
To all the people you can
As long as ever you can.
 
A vision of the end in which the world finally comes together in peace, justice, and harmony.  When the poor are fed, the captives are set free, and the oppressed are liberated.  When the tyrants are toppled from their thrones and the humble are lifted high.  When the proud are scattered and the starving are filled and the callous are sent away empty handed.  Always the hope:  The world is about to turn.  As it did on Christmas long ago, it shall once again.  The day is coming. 

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
November 24, 2024
 
“Imagine Together”
 
Romans 8: 22-25 – Common English Bible
We know that the whole creation is groaning together and suffering labor pains up until now. 23 And it’s not only the creation. We ourselves who have the Spirit as the first crop of the harvest also groan inside as we wait to be adopted and for our bodies to be set free. 24 We were saved in hope. If we see what we hope for, that isn’t hope. Who hopes for what they already see? 25 But if we hope for what we don’t see, we wait for it with patience.


“Can you imagine it?”  Imagination is crucial to a vital, alive, spiritual life, but it’s sad how often people say things like, “That’s only your imagination.”  Or, “There you go again, just imagining things.”
 
Sure, sometimes we need people to “get your head out of the clouds” or out of the sand.  Daydreamers at work or school can be frustrating and feel like their wasting the time of those who are more sober and hard working.  We need people who can just “get things done.”  But don’t we also need people who can imagine what’s never been done before.
 
One time at the dedication of a magnificent new building, the master of ceremonies lamented that the architect had died before she could see her brilliant work complete.  “Isn’t it a shame that she couldn’t see her work finished?”  A wise soul in the audience remarked, “But she did see it.  That’s why it’s here.”  We need people who can picture what most of us could never imagine. 
 
Paul said to the small, beleaguered Christian community in Rome, “If we see what we hope for, that isn’t hope.  Who hopes for what they already see?”  So he might have said, “You’re not being imaginative enough.  Give yourself permission to dream bigger dreams.”  Well, Paul probably wouldn’t have said that exactly.  He was a pretty serious guy but, then again, he wouldn’t have stood against such tremendous persecution and imprisonments and sailed through dangerous seas to spread the gospel if he didn’t see what didn’t yet exist.
 
In our passage, Paul then adds, “If we hope for what we don’t see, we wait for it with patience.”  To wait in hope, not knowing exactly what it is that we are waiting for.  Sometimes that’s all we can do.  However, I would say that the example of Paul’s own life was that hoping isn’t enough.  While we are waiting, are you getting ready?  Are you putting in the work or just wasting your time? 
 
You see, back to the dedication of the architect’s magnificent new building, “She did see it.  That’s why it’s here” is only half the story.  Yes, we need people who can picture what most of us could never imagine.  We also need people who can build it.  And others, for example, who know how to finance it, fundraise for it.  And, the list of who we need keeps going.  People who bring lunch to the workers.  People who teach the next generations of dreamers and builders and so on.  That’s why we must imagine, and build, together.  And that’s what I celebrate here today.
 
Before we ever did it, someone once visualized tables in our parking lot covered with boxes of big green heads of broccoli and crisp stalks of celery, cases of bright red peppers and long orange sticks of carrots.  Someone saw this and said, we could help feed our neighbors. 
 
One of my favorite lines in the communion liturgy says, “we come in remembrance and celebration of the gift of Jesus Christ, whom you sent, in the fullness of time, to be the good news.”  Jesus was born, could only be born, when the time was right, in the fullness of time.  Which we don’t control, for which we can sometimes only wait.
 
And in the fullness of time, volunteers who may not have known they had been waiting for just such an opportunity jumped right in.  Now, because someone saw it first, every third Tuesday you can see volunteers show up to roll and carry tables outside and set them up.  Then you see volunteers unload $1,000 worth of produce from a red pickup full of cases of fruit and fresh vegetables.  They lift those heavy boxes onto tables.  And still more volunteers then walk up and down the tables adding all those items plus potatoes and protein and more to fill 150 grocery bags handed to people one at a time.  Plus, another table along the side to hold cabbages the size of human heads.  And why not add a little more hospitality, so this past Tuesday we offered cups of coffee and pieces of pumpkin pie for our 100 plus guests.  And then it all has to be torn down and put away and preparations made to do it again next month.  It’s a lot of work, only possible because we do it together – combining physical labor with financial contributions and prayer.  Because someone imagined it and got ready for when the time was just right.  
 
Long before it was built, Mr. Green and Rev. White saw a 13-story tower sitting on the corner over there.  They saw it and church members embraced their vision to sponsor a safe and affordable home for low income seniors and then continue to serve for decades as the board to steward this precious legacy, which might have been it – a sufficient-enough response to the need for low income housing about which we could proudly say, look what we’ve done.  But today this board of our church members and community partners has imagined what we can yet do.  We picture a rainbow of manors – green, and then blue, red, orange, yellow, purple…, not literally those colors but our real participation in building 5,000 more units of housing over the next 20 years.  The legacy of someone who had an idea.  Can you see it too?  Purple Manor.  It’s definitely a together-thing.  People who bring their experience with money and finances, others who understand housing development, others who operate with a business sense and others who bring their talents and skills unrelated to money but who help everyone hold tight to the mission.  And who pray.  We never start a meeting without first praying.  
 
In 1962, Rev. Jerry McLain and members of First Congregational Church downtown San Diego at 6th and A (see above) began to think about what to do with their historic structure because the Fire Department had declared it unsafe.  He proposed tearing the church down and constructing on that spot a 24-story affordable senior apartment building with underground parking and a church on top.  On top!
 
The church on top part wasn’t approved, imagine the long wait for the elevator.  The sanctuary was relocated to the first floors, but the rest of the project, scaled down to 17 floors, moved forward, secured a government loan, and news appeared in the San Diego Evening Tribune on January 15, 1965  
 
But alas, at just the wrong time, that government program ran out of money and the whole project died, but not the idea.  Five years after Rev. McLain’s initial idea, a new committee was formed in 1967 to negotiate with HUD to build First Congregational Memorial Tower.  The author of the history of the tower wrote, “one could never relate, nor could most people ever imagine, all of the details, evasions, rejections, and revisions of red tape that were encountered as the possibility of building was pursued.”  In 1972 they bought land on Park Boulevard just north of Balboa Park.  Ten years after the committee was formed, a loan was finally approved in 1977, and work on the 100 unit, 13-story tower was completed in 1978.   Sadly, Rev. McLain died in 1971 and did not live to see his vision completed, except of course that he did.  That’s why it’s there.  
 
But in the meantime, their downtown tower plan rejected, the church considered relocating but decided San Diego did not need another UCC church and it would be best to join an existing congregation.  They just so happened to choose one of the churches they had helped to start in 1911 in Mission Hills, which just so happened to have opened its own senior tower called Green Manor in 1969.  The newly merged congregations took on the rather long name of Mission Hills First Congregational Church until the 1980s when the name was simplified to Mission Hills UCC.  Just this week, following the example of Green Manor, the current members of our church and I who serve as the board for First Congregational Memorial Tower have begun imagining how we can expand our legacy too. 
 

• Whoever first imagined we could build a house in Tijuana every year?  And how many people has it taken every year to nail those walls together in addition to raising the all money needed to build?
• Who first imagined El Nido, an apartment complex for women and their children fleeing domestic violence, each unit sponsored by a church – including our church?
• Given the vibrancy of our ministry with children, youth and families, about this time last year, Wally and Laura Borschel dreamed of a whole new ministry with older adults.  It was a fullness of time kind of thing.  They gathered a team who did an incredible amount of work on surveys and focus groups which has resulted in amazing programming already like the Second Saturday Series, and this handrail, and much more on its way.
• One of the most fun things we did all year was Kim Antos’ imaginative idea of a Homecoming Sock Hop dance.  Who would have ever imagined a church sock hop with members in poodle skirts who had graduated from high school all the way back to 1959 and children who will graduate in 2039! 
• I’ve always had a dream to take people on a civil rights pilgrimage to Selma, Montgomery, and Birmingham.  I’ve been waiting for the right time.  And thanks to someone else taking on the logistics, we’re going in September!  Thank you, David Jay, for showing up at exactly the right time.  Let me know if you’re interested in our trip.

 
I could keep going but we don’t just want to be busy, right?  Each of these are the means to embody our mission of going deeper with our faith, deeper relationships, and greater impact.  Deeper faith is first.  It is out of faith and relationships that impact grows, otherwise the impacts I’ve mentioned could not be sustained.   But neither could they without your generous pledges today.
 
And of course, how could I forget, who in their wildest dreams ever thought our choir would sing on the stage of Carnegie Hall?!  Should, yes.  Would?   Someone imagined it long ago, and a whole bunch of people who didn’t know they had been waiting patiently jumped up, ready to go.  Did you know you had been waiting patiently?
 
So, I want you to help me to finish this sermon.  I’ve told some stories and shared some examples.  I invite you to use your colored piece of paper to write, “This is what I’m grateful for at Mission Hills UCC.” 
And on the other side, put your head in the clouds and just imagine what is possible for our church.  You might just be the first person to see it and the rest of us have been waiting for you.  

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
November 17, 2024
 
“Bless Her Heart”
 
 
Mark 12: 38-44 – New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE)
As he taught, he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces 39 and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! 40 They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”
41 He sat down opposite the treasury and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. 42 A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. 43 Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. 44 For all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
 
 
Bless her heart.  A pastor friend from North Carolina once told me that, in the South, you can say almost anything about someone if first you simply add, “Bless their heart.”  And that’s about all you could say about Hattie Simmons Waggoner.
 
Most people would say she was wealthy, but bless her heart, Hattie would do everything she could to convince you she was actually quite poor.  And bless her heart, was she ever stingy.  Hattie would defend, “I’m frugal.”  But even the Girl Scouts knew to keep it moving when they walked past her big yellow house.  She complained bitterly about being cold at church, but when anyone suggested she help pay for a new boiler, she said that was a luxury and people needed to learn how to get by.  Bless her heart.
 
Hattie was lonely.  She had no children and her husband had died years ago.  He made sure she would be taken care of comfortably and that big yellow house was hers free and clear, inherited from his side of the family.  But perhaps her biggest problem was that she had achieved so few of her dreams and was jealous of those who seemed to have all they wanted.  She had said, “By the time I’m 60 I’m going to see a Broadway play, travel to Europe, and dance with Baryshnikov.  The first two she totally could have done, but it wouldn’t have played into her carefully defined “frugal” identity so she just stayed home and grew more bitter, and bless her heart, more unpleasant to be around.
 
While she sat home all alone, she stewed about what to do with her big yellow house when she died.  She kept putting off making a decision until one day she was in a car accident.  She recovered but was hit by the harsh reality that she wouldn’t live forever.  She forced herself to sit down and finally begin to write her will.
 
“I, Hattie Simmons Waggoner, being of sound mind, instruct my lawyer, Harold Claiborne, to draw my last will and testament upon the following terms.”  She lifted her pencil from the page and wavered, thinking about all the things she had and who in her life “deserved” them, especially as she watched others get what she wanted… why is it never me…
She turned back to her will and continued:  “I, Hattie Simmons Waggoner, upon the following terms, leave this property, land, house, garden, water rights, all of it to me, Hattie Simmons Waggoner.”
 
In her hour of decision, all she could imagine was leaving everything to herself.  Bless her heart.  Bless her wounded, hurting heart.
 
And in the story Jesus told of the widow with only two coins, she couldn’t imagine doing anything other than giving everything she had to God.  Bless her heart.  Bless her generous, sacrificial heart.  She is to be praised and is worthy of praise, even though I’m not sure that was exactly what Jesus intended.
 
You see, the story of the widow begins, “As Jesus taught, he looked around and said, Beware of the scribes who love to walk around in long robes.”  As Eugene Peterson colorfully described the scribes, “preening in the radiance of public flattery, basking in prominent positions, demanding to sit at the head table at every function.”  Beware of them.  They devour widows’ houses and, for the sake of appearance, say long prayers.  “The longer the prayer, the worse it gets, all the while, exploiting the weak and helpless.”  And then Jesus offered an example. 
 
Whenever Jesus told parables or offered wise sayings, it was often because he saw something.  See over there?  See that guy planting wheat?  Or, see that man lying beside the road begging… Well, he’d say, let me tell you a story.
 
And so, in this story, Jesus saw a concrete example of his warning.  See that widow over there putting coins into the temple treasury.  What was I telling you?  She’s one of those widows whose house was devoured but bless her heart, out of nothing, out of absolutely nothing, while some people gave something, she just gave everything. 
 
Jesus made this observation as one of many in a long litany of hypocrisies he observed among various religious authorities.  It was only the day before the widow that Jesus famously drove the moneychangers out of the temple and turned over the tables of those selling doves.  That was Monday.  This was Tuesday, which puts the widow’s story in a very clear context.
 
It wasn’t that Jesus disapproved of buying and selling in the courtyard of the temple.  It was necessary for those traveling to Jerusalem from everywhere around.  His disgust was pointed directly at those who tried to make an unreasonable profit.  That’s why Jesus quoted the prophet Isaiah saying, “Isn’t my house supposed to be a place of prayer for all people?” 
 
That’s why they sold doves.  It was so all people, including the poor, could afford to make an “acceptable” sacrifice, as opposed to more expensive fatted calves and lambs and so forth.  But the sellers had grossly inflated the cost.  Imagine a dove cost a penny but they sold it for 99 cents, pocketing the excess proceeds. 
 
Jesus then answered his own question by quoting the prophet Jeremiah.  “You have turned my house into a den of robbers, a hideout for crooks, a hangout for thieves.”  And then he pointed and said, like those guys over there who like to walk around in long robes, demanding respect.  Instead of the noble work of providing a service that people could afford so that the Temple could be in fact a place of prayer for all people.  Jesus protested by overturning the tables and running out the moneychangers because they were exploiting the vulnerability of the poor. 
 
Again, that was Monday.  It was Tuesday that he looked over and saw the widow putting two coins into the temple treasury.  A few days later, they concluded they had to kill this agitator or Jesus would ruin their business.  Wow.  And we thought the story of the widow and her coins was just a perfect example of stewardship!
 
It is that and it’s much more.  It’s also the stewardship of our privilege.  Using what we have to make a difference in the lives of the most vulnerable among us, including our voice.  For widows whose house was devoured, how do we serve the most vulnerable among us today? 
 
Jesus always tries to help us imagine a different way.  That’s what Jesus was trying to teach all along about the Kingdom of God.  Imagine the animating power of loving our neighbors as much as we love ourselves.  Imagine liberating the oppressed, setting the captives free, caring for all the widows, orphans, immigrants, families and everyone else because, to quote from the Book of James, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God is this:  to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”  Unstained?  Taken in by greed and lust for power over what serves the common good.
 
Imagine if Hattie Simmons Waggoner, bless her heart, gave her house to an organization, for example, that helped prisoners re-enter society, a place to live while they got their affairs in order, preparing them to live successfully.  Or she could give her house to an organization that provides a place for young people when the foster care system tells 18-year olds they’re old enough to now navigate the world on their own.  Perhaps giving it to a church who could use it to provide affordable housing for low-income seniors.  The ideas and possibilities are endless when we look beyond ourselves. 
 
Foster youth came to mind as I was writing this because on Thursday night we once again hosted the annual Thanksgiving party for participants in the organization Just in Time for Foster Youth.  We’ve heard some of their stories about horrific experiences in foster care.  Just in Time is there when they turn 18 until they are 27 to help turn those stories into strength and endurance and success.  And their testimonials are beyond inspiring.  On Thursday, before a feast of ham and turkey, they invited me to a say a prayer.  I told the tables of amazing young people that it was such an honor to be asked to give them a blessing but that they didn’t need my blessing.  They are already blessed.  Their power is already in them and they just need to use it.  You have so much to give.  Imagine what you can unleash upon the world.  As I watched them, at first they were curious, a little confused, but they got it and nodded their heads, ultimately actually feeling blessed.  What happened to them shouldn’t have happened.  But that’s not their end.
 
And the widow shouldn’t have been left with only two coins.  But she didn’t see that as the end either.  She didn’t see them as too little to do anything.  She saw all the power that comes from giving. 
 
And I don’t know what Hattie Simmons Waggoner ultimately decided to do with her big yellow house.  I just pray that at some point she didn’t just see all the dreams she didn’t fulfill, but all the power she had to contribute to a world where someone didn’t feel as alone as she did.  And in the best sense of the word, bless her heart. 
 
Right now, many of us right now are feeling pretty helpless and small.  What we can do to protect widows and others?  We may feel insignificant, like all we have are two small coins, but in the immediacy of this moment, we can still make change, particularly in each other’s lives.  In a world with too many people sitting home feeling bitter and alone, look around and see the abundance and recognize the extraordinary privilege we have in this place and in this room right now.  You have a place to belong and a place, in fact, to literally serve widows and orphans and immigrants and neighbors in need.  Invite others who feel like you do to come along.  Listen to them and invite them here because imagine when we put all of that power together.  That’s when we’re church.  Who do you know to invite?
 

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
November 10, 2024
 
“Same Mission, Same Message”
 
Psalm 46 – New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE)
God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present[a] help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
    though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
    though the mountains tremble with its tumult. Selah
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of the city;[b] it shall not be moved;
    God will help it when the morning dawns.
6 The nations are in an uproar; the kingdoms totter;
    he utters his voice; the earth melts.
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.[c] Selah
8 Come, behold the works of the Lord;
    see what desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
    he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God!
    I am exalted among the nations;
    I am exalted in the earth.”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.
.
  
Let’s take a breath.
 
When it feels like the earth has changed, when it’s been turned upside down,
    when the mountains have shaken into the heart of the sea,
when the waters in the sea roar and foam,
    and the mountains begin to break apart…
When it feels like this, the Psalmist knew exactly what to say:
God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in times of trouble.
 
Let’s take a breath.
 
God is a very present help in times of trouble or simply in times of great change.  Change can feel like trouble because it comes with grief and because fear accompanies change, fear of the unknown, even the fear of knowing what is coming.  To which the Psalmist knew exactly what to say:  “Be still, and know that I am God!”
 
So, let’s take a breath.
 
Listen to Psalm 46.  It’s begins:
“God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in times of trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
    though the mountains shake into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
    though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
    God will help it when the morning dawns.
 
I’ve read these words at countless funerals over the years because they are comforting when our worlds have indeed been shaken and crumbled, turned upside down, especially when the person who was our rock has died.  The sure foundations of the earth have changed.  Sometimes, then, I skip over the words that follow and go straight to “be still,” but here are the next lines, which today in particular should not be skipped over:
 
Like breathing in,
6 The nations are in an uproar; the kingdoms totter;
    God utters God’s voice; the earth melts.
 
But, then breathing out,
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.
 
Let’s take a breath.
 
The Psalmist breathes in again and increases the tension:
8 Come, behold the works of the Lord;
    see what desolations God has brought on the earth, who
9 makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
    God breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    and burns the shields with fire.
 
And then we exhale,
10 “Be still, and know that I am God!
    I am exalted among the nations;
    I am exalted in the earth.” 
 
And repeats again, insists:
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.
 
Be still.  And let’s take another breath.
 
Remember, it’s not if, but when the earth changes,
Remember, it’s not if, but when the mountains shake into the heart of the sea,
Not if, but when its waters roar and foam,
    Not if, but when the mountains tremble with its tumult…
Not if, but remember with certainty:  God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in times of trouble.
 
Thank God we have something to hold on to when our world suddenly and unexpectedly changes, because we know that the world has suddenly and unexpectedly changed many times before.  Scripture grounds us.  Our ancestors in faith instruct us from beyond the grave.
 
When the world spins crazy,
spins wild and out of control
spins toward rage and hate and violence,
spins beyond our wisdom and nearly beyond our faith,
When the world spins in chaos as it does now among us…
We are glad for sobering roots that provide ballast in the storm.

That’s one of my favorite prayers from my collection of 40 before the election written by Walter Brueggemann, Old Testament scholar and UCC clergy:
 
When the world spins crazy, wild and out of control,
We thank you, God, for our rootage in communities of faith,
for our many fathers and mothers who have believed and trusted as firm witnesses to us,
for their many stories of wonder, awe, and healing.
And when we meet you hiddenly,
we find the spin not so unnerving,
because from you the world again has a chance
for life and sense and wholeness.
We pray midst the spinning, not yet unnerved,
but waiting and watching and listening,
for you are the truth that contains all our spin.
 
Actually, today I am feeling quite unnerved, but remembering to ground ourselves in scripture, Paul’s encouraging words in 2nd Corinthians, chapter 4, help.  We are 8 afflicted in every way, yet not crushed, perplexed, but not driven to despair,9 persecuted but not forsaken, struck down but not destroyed… 
 
I love those lines, but I hadn’t connected the conclusion of the idea: not perplexed or crushed, etc. 10 because we always carry around in our bodies the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies.
 
I don’t think of myself as “carrying around the death of Jesus in my body.”  That’s a rather odd idea.  But, if we open our eyes to really see the people around us we are, in fact, confronted with death and suffering every day.  Including our own.  And what does he say to do?  “Make the life of Jesus visible in our bodies.”  Meaning, through our actions.  Now that makes sense.
 
Here’s how the paragraph ends:
11 For we who are living are always being handed over to death for Jesus’s sake, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our mortal flesh. 12 Death is at work in us but life is in you.”
 
Let’s take a breath.
 
How are you feeling this morning?  Some may feel unnerved, scared because it feels like the earth has changed, and in that change, fear that we are in for times of trouble.  But others are feeling, “thank God the earth has changed” because the mountains need to shake into the heart of the sea.  They’re excited for some mountain shaking time.  Some people are feeling helpless, others are feeling empowered.  And it’s hard for either one to understand the other, let alone desire to understand the other.
 
But I’m reminded of another of the prayers included in the 40 days credited to Mother Teresa:
 
If you are honest and sincere, people may deceive you. 
Be honest and sincere anyway.
 
If you are kind, people may take advantage of you.  
Be kind anyway.
 
People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  
Forgive them anyway.
 
What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. 
Create anyway.
 
If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. 
Be happy anyway.
 
The good you do today, will often be forgotten. 
Do good anyway.  And give your best.
 
Our world did change this week.  Bring to God what you feel this morning.  All of it.  What you feel later this afternoon may be different.  But no matter who is in charge of our country or any other nation, our mission and message is the same. 
 
In our rootage, when the Prophet Micah asks this question, generations before and generations after us recite the same words of scripture:
8  What does the Lord require of you?
Do justice and love kindness and walk humbly with your God.
 
Last month we distributed food to our neighbors, as we have done for years.  This month we will again distribute food to our neighbors.  For years we have built houses in Tijuana.  We will build another one in February.  A few months ago we assembled care kits and visited a shelter for migrants seeking safety for their families.  That kind of care and much more will continue.  Last month we cared for people who are alone and need support, some at home, some at the prison.  The mission and message of the church is the same.
 
Though the earth should change and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, when the earth changes, what is required of each of us?  It is to love God and love our neighbors, all of them, as our self. 
 
It is to be honest and sincere.  It is to be kind.  It is to forgive.  To create.  To be happy.  To do good and to give our best.  Which is to say, as Christians, we are called to make the life of Jesus visible in our bodies.  And understand, that means there may come a time when our physical bodies are needed to protect the bodies of those who have been made more vulnerable this week in so many ways.  That’s being the Body of Christ. 
 
But for today, today let’s just take another breath.

​Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
  
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
October 13, 2024
 
“A Not Quite So Happy Ending”
 
Esther 8: 1-2 – Common English Bible
That same day King Ahasuerus gave Queen Esther what Haman the enemy of the Jews owned. Mordecai himself came before the king because Esther had told the king that he was family to her. 2 The king took off his royal ring, the one he had removed from Haman, and gave it to Mordecai. Esther put Mordecai in charge of what Haman had owned.
 
  
The Book of Esther begins with a detailed explanation of over-the-top extravagance involving a party that lasts for six months and a final week of drunken debauchery capped off with the demand that the king’s beautiful wife, Vashti, parade in front of a bunch of drunk men wearing only her crown.  As you know by now, she said no, which set off a panic that women all over the kingdom would refuse their husband’s demands too.  The king agreed to issue an order that “every man is the master of his own house” and banished the queen from the kingdom. 
 
To replace her, the king agreed to an extravagant plan involving a kingdom-wide search for beautiful women, all brought to the capital city for a year of beauty treatments before the king made a final choice of the woman who pleased him the most.  He chose Hadassah, a young Jewish woman, also known by her Persian name, Esther.  Her uncle Mordecai advised her not to reveal their Jewish identity, but there came a moment when it was just such a time; a time when revelation was exactly what was needed.
 
You see, there was a man named Haman, the highest official in the king’s court, whose ego demanded that he be treated like the highest official in the king’s court, which meant that everyone who passed by must bow in front of him.  Mordecai refused.  A furious and indignant Haman went to the king with “information” that there was a certain dangerous element in the kingdom, “they’re not like us,” and they’re plotting against you – not that “a guy named Mordecai hurt my feelings.”  The payback, the revenge Haman sought was Mordecai’s execution by impaling him on the sharpened end of a 75-foot pole, although in some translations, he built gallows to hang him.  But that wasn’t satisfaction enough.  Haman wanted to kill all of Mordecai’s people – every Jew in a kingdom of 127 provinces stretching from India to Ethiopia.
 
He manipulated the king’s fears and insecurities into a mandate issued for a specific date – a date chosen by throwing dice known as pur.  On that date, everyone was ordered to kill their Jewish neighbors.  Mordecai overheard these plans and got word of it to Esther and she went right into action.  She set a trap and lured Haman’s huge ego into it, which ended with Haman being impaled on the very pole Haman erected for Mordecai.  Haman’s wealth and position were given to Mordecai.  And the plans to kill the Jews were averted and evil was defeated.  Almost.
 
You see, that original order that Haman manipulated the king to issue was still in effect.  Esther begged the king to revoke it, but for whatever reason, the king wasn’t allowed to change his mind even if he wanted to.  Anything written in the name of the king and sealed with the king’s royal ring can’t be called back.
 
The only remedy he could suggest was to issue a mandate to be carried out the day before.  He agreed to act fast.  The king prepared letters to all 127 provinces in the alphabet and language of each people and sent it with riders mounted on royal horses born of mares bred to run fast.  The order allowed Jews in each town to wipe out, kill, and destroy every army of any people and province that attacked them.
 
When that day came, the capital city greeted Mordecai with shouts of joy for it was a day of light, happiness, joy, and honor.  He wore a large gold crown with a blue and white royal robe under his white and red-purple coat.  In every town where those riders mounted on royal horses arrived, it was a day of happiness and joy with feasts and celebrations.  The tables had been turned on their enemies.  Haman’s ten sons were impaled on sharpened poles just like their father.  A few hundred others were killed.  All in all, not too bad – violent, yes, but not a massacre.  There were a few reports that “they did whatever they wanted to those who hated them – sword blows, killing, destruction…”  But, wait for it.
 
At the end of the day, the king heard reports of what had happened – 500 people dead, the ten sons of Haman impaled.  He asked Queen Esther, “What do you wish now?  I’ll give it to you.  What is your desire?”  She said, “Let us do it tomorrow too.”  Nothing is said of doing it in defense, which seems reasonable.  Rather, I guess you could say, it was kind of a “kill because you might be killed day” or a “kill before you get killed day.”  All we know is that at the end of a seemingly unnecessary second day, 75,000 of their neighbors lay dead. 
 
So, two weeks ago, we recognized the strength of Vashti to say no to any more of the king’s humiliating demands.  Last week we celebrated the creatively brilliant and risky strategy of Esther when she said yes to save her people at just the right time.  I love the story of Esther, right up to this not quite so happy ending. 
 
The story is not universally loved.  In fact, its placement in the Bible was very contentious and not accepted as canonical in Judaism until the third century, not until the fourth century in the Western Church, and not until the 8th century in the Eastern Church.  Martin Luther said he wished it never existed, but perhaps not because of the 75,000 dead people.  It’s criticized because Esther’s Jewish identity is more about her ethnicity than her religion.  There is nothing particularly religious about the book, no prayers.  God is never mentioned.  God is presumed perhaps, but not named.  The Septuagint, the Greek version used by Catholics, attempts to fix this “problem” with editing, inserting six verses to speak about God more explicitly.  Jews and Protestants follow the Masoretic text, the Hebrew version passed down by the rabbis.  In this, God’s role is simply assumed, a hidden identity, perhaps like Esther’s original intent.  I say, if there is to be any editing, let’s edit out the slaying of 75,000 innocent people. 
 
My former church shared its building with a Jewish synagogue for 36 years.  The rabbi’s office was just down the hall from mine.  Our congregations enjoyed this unique interfaith opportunity and had things we did together every year.  Esther is the basis for joyous annual celebrations of Purim with costumes and feasting and fun.  One year I asked him, what do you do with the dead 75,000.  He said they don’t read that part, and added, “just because it’s in the Bible doesn’t mean it’s right.” 

And it’s true.  Both progressive Christians and progressive Jews read the Bible seriously, not literally.  We know to ask questions of meaning.  For example, Lot’s wife didn’t literally turn into a pillar of salt.  We might ask and reflect upon, what happens when we look back.  Jonah didn’t literally sit in the belly of a whale.  We might ask and reflect upon, what might happen if we refuse our calling.  Were a literal Adam and Eve banished from a perfect Garden of Eden?  We might ask and reflect upon, “where do we come from and why is the world full of such evil.”  And were 75,000 people killed by their neighbors over a slight to someone’s ego?  Or, maybe we should ask, is it possible that such a thing would happen?  Therefore, we might ask and reflect upon, why is the world so filled with such violence, and what can we do.

There are times we’d like a little payback, even crave a little revenge – just a little.  If Esther ended with “And they all lived happily ever after,” I wouldn’t be challenged to explore this darker place of revelation that there are secrets I’d prefer not to share – that there are certain people I would like to experience some suffering for lies, deceit, and manipulation.  Let me just sit in this truth for a moment.  And wouldn’t it feel a little satisfying for those victims, targets of hate and violence, to get a little reversal of fortune for themselves?
 
But hatred for hatred is lazy.  It takes no effort to condemn and so much criticism is unimaginative.  The harder work, the work of faith, is to imagine our way to love.  To create ways to peace.  To move from thoughts of what “they deserve” to what “we deserve – what we can build together.”  As we have discovered throughout the summer and all the characters we have explored, every one of us are light and shadow – a complicated web of mixed intentions and motivations, hurt feelings, secret plots and cravings.  Then from that honesty, who do we actually want to be?  What is our aspiration?  And how?
 
On our 40-day countdown of prayers before the election, today’s is a prayer by Sister Joan Chittister, one of the Benedictine Sisters of Erie in Pennsylvania – a community with whom I spent a lot of time when I lived in Cleveland.  An excerpt of her prayer today speaks directly to this: 
 
Great God, who has told us “Vengeance is mine,” (as in, not yours)
save us from the vengeance in our hearts and the acid in our souls.
Save us from our desire to hurt as we have been hurt,
to punish as we have been punished,
to terrorize as we have been terrorized.
Give us the depth of soul, O God, to constrain our might,
to resist the temptations of power,
to refuse to attack the attackable,
to understand that vengeance begets violence,
and to bring peace—not war—wherever we go.
 
For You, O God, have been merciful to us.
For You, O God, have been patient with us.
For You, O God, have been gracious to us.
And so may we be merciful and patient and gracious and trusting
with these others whom you also love.
This we ask through Jesus, the one without vengeance in his heart.


In 2018, right in the middle of this polarizing and divisive era we are living through, Pope Francis articulated a prayerful challenge for people of faith.  I invite us to say it together:
 
Creator, make us instruments of your peace.
Where there is shouting, let us practice listening.
Where there is confusion, let us inspire harmony.
Where there is ambiguity, let us bring clarity.
Where there is exclusion, let us offer solidarity.
Where there is sensationalism, let us use sobriety.
Where there is superficiality, let us raise real questions.
Where there is prejudice, let us awaken trust.
Where there is hostility, let us bring respect.
Where there is falsehood, let us bring truth.
Creator, make us instruments of your peace.  Amen
 
There are parts of my life I would like to edit out.  But, Esther’s ‘not quite so happy ending’ becomes more meaningful because it is just as truthful as our own unedited story – it’s joyful in its triumphs, painful in its failings, mostly hopeful and plenty of messy, and always extravagantly beloved.
 

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
October 6, 2024
 
“It is Just Such a Time:  The Story of Ether”
 
The Book of Esther, chapter 4: 12b-17 – Common English Bible
When they told Mordecai Esther’s words, 13 he had them respond to Esther: “Don’t think for one minute that, unlike all the other Jews, you’ll come out of this alive simply because you are in the palace. 14 In fact, if you don’t speak up at this very important time, relief and rescue will appear for the Jews from another place, but you and your family will die. But who knows? Maybe it was for a moment like this that you came to be part of the royal family.”
15 Esther sent back this word to Mordecai: 16 “Go, gather all the Jews who are in Susa and tell them to give up eating to help me be brave. They aren’t to eat or drink anything for three whole days, and I myself will do the same, along with my female servants. Then, even though it’s against the law, I will go to the king; and if I am to die, then die I will.” 17 So Mordecai left where he was and did exactly what Esther had ordered him.
 

In last week’s story, Queen Vashti said no to her husband’s humiliating demand that she parade in front of a bunch of men who had been drinking for seven days, wearing only her crown.  After years of suffering under this boorish fool, she finally had enough and refused.  But the men who surrounded the king convinced him he had to do something or all the women of the kingdom would follow suit and refuse their husband’s demands too.  So, Vashti was banished. 
 
To replace her, they held a kingdom-wide beauty contest where all the most beautiful women from India to Ethiopia were brought to the capital city.  Before seeing the king, they had beauty treatments, 6 months each with oils and perfumes – one of my favorite details in the story.  The most beautiful of them all was a young woman named Hadasah.  You may know her by her Persian name, Esther.  This was a multi-ethnic kingdom.  Her family had been among the Jews forced into Babylonian exile who decided to stay behind.  They remained where they had built new lives instead of move back to Jerusalem to rebuild there.  It seems like they were relatively well integrated, but like any minority, no one really wants to test the bounds of acceptance.  So, when Esther became the queen, Mordecai advised her not to reveal her Jewish identity to the king.  No need to draw unwanted attention.  They also didn’t reveal their relationship.  Mordecai was her older cousin, some say uncle, who took her in after her parents died.  He raised her as his own. 
 
Sometime after Esther was made queen, the king elevated a man named Haman to a position of honor in his court and it went straight to his head.  He was not a nice man, a narcissistic jerk, really.  Among other things, he ordered anyone who passed by him to stop and kneel.  Mordecai either thought this was ridiculous or refused to bow before anyone except God, so when Haman walked by, Mordecai just stood there minding his own business, whistling, pretending to dig dirt out from under his fingernails.  Haman was incensed – “How dare he disrespect me!” – and he looked for a way to get back at him.  But not just Mordecai.  Let’s make this really hurt.  He devised a plan to kill all Jews.
 
He went to the king and, with an ominous tone, warned him that there was a “certain dangerous element” living among them.  They don’t follow our laws and customs and they’re plotting – they’re coming for you.  He insisted, “the ‘evidence’ is clear.”  Haman stoked his fears and manipulated the easily manipulated king into signing an order that they should all be killed before they do something to the king.  And even better, Haman promised to pay for it!  Mind you, this was because Mordecai refused to make Haman feel like a big man.  So, Haman placed a big wooden pole, 75 feet high, right outside the palace and sharpened the top like a pencil, so he could impale Mordecai on it.  Truly gruesome.
 
Mordecai overheard the plot and sent news to Esther explaining the danger to all Jews and said, “don’t think that because you are the queen, you’ll be spared.”  And then he famously told her, “perhaps you were made queen ‘for just such a time as this.”  But, protocol didn’t allow the queen to just go to the king to intervene, to plead for their lives.  She could be killed for being so impertinent.  So, here’s what she did.
 
She put on some of that perfume she had bathed in for six months and dressed up in all her royal finery.  And then she stood just outside the entrance to the throne room, looking like she was minding her own business, and waited for the king to notice her.  He did.  “What can I do for you?” he said.  “Just ask.  I’ll even give you half of my kingdom.”  “If it pleases you, come today for a feast I have prepared.  And invite Haman too.”  
 
That evening they all had such a pleasant time that the king asked again, “What can I do for you.  Anything.  I’ll even give you half of my kingdom.”  “Well, if it pleases the king, and if the king wishes to grant my wish and my desire, I’d like the king to come to another feast tomorrow night.  And then I’ll give you my answer.  And bring Haman too.”
 
Haman beamed and the next day he strutted around town, his head the size of a hot air balloon.  But his balloon deflated when on his way home he saw Mordecai.  Once again, instead of getting up to bow, Mordecai just sat on the ground and paid him no attention.  Haman boiled with rage but decided, “I’ll deal with him later.  Nothing is going to ruin my special night.”
 
After another wonderful dinner, the king asked again, “What can I do for you?  I’ll give you half of my kingdom if you wish.”  Esther replied, “If I please the king, and if the king wishes, grant me my life – that’s my wish – and the lives of my people too.”  “What do you mean?”  She explained that someone wants to kill her and all her people.  Then she added, “but you’re the real victim of this plot.  These are your people and no enemy can compensate you for this terrible damage done to you.”  What a brilliant move!  In fact, she added, “I wouldn’t have even bothered you if we were simply being sold into slavery.” 
 
The king asked, “Who would do such an evil thing?”  Sitting right there across the table, Haman’s face grew red and he tried to play it cool.  Thanks to Esther’s well played scheme, she pointed, “This wicked Haman!”  The king was incensed and stormed out of the room.  Haman got down on the ground in front of her to plead with Esther to spare his life.  Just then the king came back into the room and it looked to him like Haman was trying to assault his wife.  “In my own house!”
 
One of the king’s eunuchs quickly pointed.  “Look sir, over there.  It’s a pole, 75 feet high, that Haman made to impale Mordecai.”  The eunuch, like many others, probably loathed Haman.  “You know, Mordecai, the guy who did you a favor.”

So, back up for a moment.  Sometime earlier, quite a ways back, Mordecai overheard two guards plotting to kill the king.  He told Esther who told the grateful king and the plotters were hanged.  But the king didn’t turn his gratitude into any kind of favor for Mordecai.  But recently, the king had been reminded of this deed and made him an official in his court – which made Haman madder than ever.  
 
Again, the eunuch pointed to the pole built to kill Mordecai and suggested the king use Haman’s pole for Haman’s punishment.  The king commanded, “Impale him on it.”  And then he gave Haman’s wealth and the highest position in his court to Mordecai.  A complete reversal of fortune.  However, the order to annihilate the Jews remained in effect.  What now?  That’s how this story concludes next week.
 
Last week, Vashti took a risk and said no – knowing the potential cost and consequences of her decision.  This week, Esther said yes – knowing the potential cost and consequences of her decision.  You see, at just the right time, she risked going to the king and disclosing that she had a different identity than what he or anyone else might have thought, one she intended to keep secret.  But now, she discerned her action would save other’s lives and that was worth the risk. 
 
A few years ago, Andrea and her mother told NPR’s StoryCorp about when she began to experience her first symptoms of mental illness – paranoid thoughts, delusions, and erratic behavior…  They told stories of her rapidly escalating illness and all the tragedy before Andrea was eventually hospitalized.  For two weeks, she refused to take any medication – until she received a phone call from her grandfather.  “Andrea, I want you to know that I’ve been there.”  He didn’t tell her to take it, just that he had been there – something he had never talked about with anyone.  Never intended to.  A year before Andrea’s mother was born, he was institutionalized.  No one knew and it would stay that way.  He went on to earn his PhD in chemistry and was a professor for 40 years.  But when his granddaughter refused for two weeks to cooperate with her treatment, he decided this was just such a time.  He revealed his closely held secret.  Andrea said that changed everything.  “I thought, if he could do it, I could do it too.”  And she did.
 
I like the story of Vashti and Esther for the interplay of discernment.  When to say “no” or “now” and when to say “not yet.”  I think of how some people who are undocumented are presented with this kind of dilemma.  For example, Dreamers who have bravely come forward when some draconian action was about to be taken to risk saying, “This is me.  This is us.”  Coming out stories for people who are LGBTQ – should I, shouldn’t I.  Or women and men, never wishing to speak about it, who have stepped forward to say “Me too.”  In order to help someone.  It was just such a time.
 
When Rev. Amy Butler was the pastor of one of the most prominent churches in the country – Riverside Church in New York City, a UCC American Baptist congregation – she shared a story publicly she had no intention of ever telling anyone outside of friends and family.  At a routine appointment during her second pregnancy, she said, “the doctor looked and looked at the sonogram images.  She was silent for far too long and then told me she’d be right back. The moments that followed were filled with one doctor after another entering the exam room, looking at the sonogram screen, then going out to whisper in the hallway. I kept asking what was going on, but nobody would tell me anything. My husband was at work and I sat in the cold company of beeping monitors and I felt so afraid. And then all the doctors came into the room together, stood around me, and told me that my baby would die at birth, or after a very short, excruciatingly painful few minutes of life; and that continuing the pregnancy to full term would be very dangerous for me.”  Rev. Butler related, in that room, at that moment, it never occurred to me that my husband and I wouldn’t be allowed to make a medical decision.  But then came a moment, “just such a time as this,” when it was important to take the risk of publicly telling – the media and to her church – their very personal story – not for recognition but because it could save someone’s life.
 
To me, Esther is among the most inspirational stories in the Bible,  all the risk taking and discernment and decisions about personal sacrifice.  In particular, Esther used her position of privilege, which ultimately could not save her, to save others’ lives. 
 
We have these decisions too.  Perhaps there is a conversation you’ve never wanted to have.  A decision you have been putting off.  For someone here today waiting for the courage of Esther, “this is just such a time.”  

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
September 29, 2024
 
“She Said No:  The Story of Vashti”

The Book of Esther, chapter 1 – Common English Bible
 
 
Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a powerful man who was easy to manipulate when his ego was stroked and, when not being flattered, throw temper tantrums completely out of proportion with the situation.  Despite this, King Ahasuerus was remarkably successful.  He controlled all the land from India to Ethiopia – 127 provinces in all. 
 
In the third year of his reign, he decided to throw a big celebration.  But, not just big.  It was huge.  He threw a six-month long party for leaders from all 127 provinces.  He brought them to his capital city to show off his riches and beautiful treasures to prove how great he was.  At the end of six months, he threw a banquet that lasted for seven days.  No expense was spared.  As the Bible says in great detail:  The royal palace was draped in white linen curtains.  Purple hangings were held up by shining white and red-purple ropes tied to silver rings and marble posts.  Gold and silver couches sat on a mosaic floor made of gleaming purple crystal, marble, and mother-of-pearl.  They served wine in cups made of gold, each cup with its own unique design.  For seven days, the royal wine flowed.  The king made sure there was plenty – and the rule was – no limits.  Give each guest, all of them men, as much as they want.  In the meantime, the queen hosted her very own celebration for the women of the kingdom.  Sadly, we are given no details of their decorating choices, no indication of anything more tasteful than gold couches.
 
On the seventh day, as the well-lubricated king continued to brag about his riches and boast about all of his beautiful possessions, he realized he had one more thing he wanted to show off.  He was “in high spirits” when he called his personal servants – seven eunuchs – and told them to summon the queen.  Queen Vashti was gorgeous and he wanted everyone to know it.  In truth, he wanted them to compliment him for having such as smokin’ hot babe for a wife.  Well, that line isn’t in scripture, but you just know that was what he was thinking, very rationally of course, at the end of a seven-day binge of a six-month long party.
 
So, the eunuchs went to the queen and explained that she was to appear before the king wearing her crown.  Queen Vashti gave a hard pass.  She knew what he meant:  Come parade yourself in front of a bunch of men who have been drinking for a week so that I can brag, not about you, but about me, me, me.  And wear your crown, which scholars have explained meant wearing “only” your crown.  She flat out refused.  The king boiled with rage.  How dare she!  He was furious and embarrassed and gathered advisors to discuss the best way to deal with the situation.  “What should I do with Queen Vashti since she didn’t do what I ordered?”  Everyone piped in with their own ideas.
 
Then Memucan spoke up – one of the seven most important people all the way from Persia to Media.  “Sir, the queen hasn’t just wronged you.  She has done wrong against all the officials and people in every one of your provinces.  Just think about it.  When news gets out, all the women of the kingdom will look down on their husbands.  They will say, the king ordered his servants to bring Queen Vashti before him, but she refused.  He can’t control her.  This very day, when the women of Persia and Media hear about what the queen did, they will tell the royal officials the same thing and there will be no end of put-downs and arguments.” 
There were a lot of men listening to this and nodding their heads and murmuring “yeah.  Yeah, she has done us all wrong.  Your highness the most, of course, but yeah, she’s a threat to our way of life!” 
 
Memucan let the men spin out of control and agitate the king and then he spoke up again.  “So, if it pleases the king, send out a royal order and have it written into the laws all across the kingdom, laws that no one can change.  It should say that Vashti will never again come before the king.  It should also say that the king will give her royal palace to someone better than she.”  A chorus of chants began:  “Kick her out.  Kick her out.”
 
Now we might ask, why would you write that into the laws all across the kingdom?  It’s only directed against one person.  It only applies to Vashti.  But here’s why:  “When the order becomes public in every province, all women, rich, poor, and in between, will treat their husbands properly.”
 
Everyone turned to see what the king would say.  “I like it!”  And he sent written orders to every province in their own alphabet and their own language.  It said, “Men will decide what happens to women.”  Well actually it said, “Every husband shall rule over his own house.”  But as you can see, once upon a time, everything ended happily ever after. 
 
The six-month long party was over and everyone went home.  After he sobered up, the king’s anger lessened and he thought about his wife and what she had done.  And what he had done.  I’m not sure you could say that he regretted his actions, but he certainly missed her.  As he moped around the palace, his advisors sensed weakness arising and presented him with a plan.
 
“What do you think about this?  Let us search for the most beautiful young women between India and Ethiopia and bring them back to the royal palace.  Then you can choose a new queen from among them.  “I like it!”  What’s not to like, until they explained he would have to wait an entire year.  “Before they meet you, we will have your chief eunuch provide them with beauty treatments.  Six months of treatment with pleasant-smelling creams and six months with fragrant oils and other treatments.” 
 
Again, the king liked the idea.  They promised him that the one who pleased him, which I don’t really want to explain; the one who pleased him the most would become his next queen.  Her story is next week.
 
But all this waiting left him time to think about whether he did the right thing by Vashti.  Vashti also had plenty of time to think about whether she had done the right thing for herself.  She was banished from the palace and became a pariah from India to Ethiopia.  She lost her crown, her prestige, her privilege…  Was it really worth it?  Would she do it again? 
 
And suddenly this “once upon a time” story is one that actually deals with real questions we struggle with even today.  Questions like, when is the right time to speak up and when is the right time to remain silent.  What are the costs and consequences?  And are we prepared to pay them? 
 
How did Vashti decide, “this is where I finally draw the line.”  You see, this wasn’t a tantrum, an act of defiance, as much as a final “enough.”  Perhaps she asked, as poet and activist Audre Lorde did, “What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence.”  Vashti certainly didn’t decide to defy an order of the king without having first been pushed to her limit, and certainly aware of what would happen to her.  But, perhaps even more so, aware that the women at her party, and their daughters, were watching what she would do.  And that mattered.  That matters.
 
Very few people have ever heard of Vashti.  If anything, she’s just the setup, the prequel to the story of Esther.  For centuries, Vashti’s story has simply been told, by men, that she deserved what happened to her.  She was disobedient and got the punishment coming to her.  Fortunately, such sentiments are changing, at least a little.  For some, Vashti has even become an icon.  I agree.  We need people like her.
 
It’s like Dr. Anna Florence Carter said:  “It’s a funny thing.  We don’t have many role models in the Bible for saying no.  We tend to think of faith as saying ‘yes.’”  Yes, here I am.  What if we recognized that no is just as faithful an answer.  Because otherwise, sometimes the tyrannies we swallow day by day might cause us to sicken and die.  What if, for example, we embraced that sometimes it takes “no” to finally lead us in the direction we should go?  Aware of the costs, aware that others are watching – especially our children.
 
This may, in fact, be your story.  A story for every person, for example, who has had to weigh their job against their self-respect.  Choosing between what you’re asked to do and what is right to do.  It’s a story for every person who has ever felt their integrity called into question.  It’s a question sometimes people have to ask of their friendships and relationships and sometimes there is a point when we must finally must ask it of our marriage – cost and consequence and all. 
 
This is a story when we are confronted with injustice.  Movements don’t come out of no where.  When enough people say enough.  When have you said, when must we say, can I, should I, just go along with what is happening in our country, with what is happening in our world, or not.  This is just such a time of reckoning.  Do I stay silent?  A good time to ask:  What would Jesus do.  Seriously.  What would Jesus do.
 
Frederick Douglas said, “I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and incur my own abhorrence.”  Vashti chose self-respect for the purchase price of dignity.
 
The king didn’t just order Vashti to come and say hi to his guests.  After trying dazzle everyone with his riches for six months, he had one last “possession” to boost his ego, to prove his manhood.  He ordered Vashti to humiliate herself, to put herself on display wearing only her crown, to walk in front of men who had been drinking for seven days.  
 
Our choices are not usually that extreme, maybe not that obvious, but situations that question our integrity and self-respect are not that uncommon.  “Here is where I draw the line” is a faithful decision.  No is a good thing.  
 
And should we not also have a “here is where I draw the line” for how our neighbors are treated too?  That whole “love your neighbors as much as you love yourself” Jesus-thing requires no sometimes.  Enough.
 
So, here’s to Vashti, a new role model – 2,600 years later.  The time had come.  She said no.  Has that time ever come for you?  Is it maybe now?
 

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
September 15, 2024
 
“Steamy Love in the Bible”


Song of Songs – various verses below – New Revised Standard Version
 
 
Most sexuality in the Bible has to do with prohibitions – don’t do this, don’t do that – or things like stoning a woman caught in adultery or killing a man for spilling his “seed” on the ground or a death sentence for laying with another man.  It seems like, if it’s not promising death, then it’s promoting shame.  In Genesis, when Adam and Eve saw each other naked the first time, they became ashamed.  But the Song of Songs takes pleasure in the body and is full of desire; it’s passionate and steamy.  You heard a very small, very tame, portion of Song of Songs assigned in the lectionary – a PG rated selection.  Most of it’s PG 13, with a sizable portion in the middle I would be too embarrassed to read until after the kids go to Sunday School.  By the way, the book is also known as the Song of Solomon, though it’s highly unlikely he had anything to do with writing it, but he is spoken of in the text.
 
It starts out:  “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth.”  Right away, is this scripture or a Harlequin romance?   Notably, it’s the only book in the Bible written in the voice of a woman.  “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth.  For your love is better than wine, your anointing oils are fragrant, your name is perfume poured out; therefore, the maidens love you.” 
 
There are three voices:  the woman, her suitor, and a crowd known as the “Daughters of Jerusalem,” who reply to her:  “We will exult and rejoice in you; we will extol your love more than wine.”  And then she speaks of the maidens directly to her lover: “Rightly do they love you.”
 
But then she becomes defensive about their right to love each other.  She said, “I am black and beautiful.”  Yes, not just a phrase from the 1970s but scripture.  “I am black and beautiful.”  She explains to the Daughters of Jerusalem that her darker skin tone was because she was made to work outside.  In her words of defense, African Americans may immediately hear colorism,[1] a prejudice and preference related to the shades of lighter and darker skin that has existed for thousands of years – not just between races but among them.  Color prejudice tries to determine acceptable standards of beauty and assigns people their class.  She pushes back and demands – I am black and beautiful and she insists upon their right to love each other.  It is important to know this story is not just sensual but social commentary.
 
That’s when the object of her love breaks in with his first words:  “I compare you, my love, to a mare among Pharaoh’s chariots.  Your cheeks are comely with ornaments, your neck with strings of jewels.  Ah, you are beautiful, my love; your eyes are doves.”   She replies, “Ah, you are beautiful, my beloved, truly lovely.”  They continue this dance back and forth. 
 
In the next chapter, she says:  “He brought me to the banqueting house, and his intention toward me was love.”  “My beloved is mine and I am his.”  These are two subtle and important statements.  It says nothing of marriage or possessing her.  Her lover’s intention is love.  Further, she claims him first.  She asserts that “my beloved is mine.”  He is mine and I am his.  It’s unusual in scripture, and yet, here it is in print:  a biblical power dynamic in which she is not of subservient but interdependent; it’s a mutual and equal love.
 
In chapter 3, the woman speaks:  “Upon my bed at night, I sought him whom my soul loves…”  but he was not there.  So, she frantically looks for him around the city.  She panics and twice tells the Daughters of Jerusalem to stay out of her way.  And when she finally finds him, “I held him and would not let him go until I brought him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.” 
 
The sexual overtones are not subtle and the heat increases.  He says, “How beautiful you are, my love, how very beautiful!  Your eyes are doves.  Your hair is like a flock of goats, moving down the slopes of Gilead.”  Yes, he first compared her to one of Pharaoh’s horses, now her hair is like goats and her teeth are like clean sheep.  Clearly, references from a different time, but the passion is clear and the details are only getting steamier. 
 
“Your lips are like a crimson thread, and your mouth is lovely.  Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil. Your neck is like the tower of David.  Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle that feed among the lilies.”  “You have ravished my heart… with a [simple] glance of your eyes.”  How’s that for romance? 
 
By the way, I was curious.  The first Harlequin romance was published in 1949.  The Song of Songs was written 2,500 years earlier.  As I said, most of it is PG 13.  But some of chapter 5 is truly too explicit for me to read here.  Psst, by the way, it’s page 622 in your pew Bible!
 
But then the Daughters of Jerusalem reappear.  They question, “What is your beloved more than another beloved,” that you make such an urgent appeal.  They seem to go back and forth between being skeptical of their love and supportive. 
 
She responds back not by describing what a great husband he would be or his sparkling personality.  She describes his hair and eyes and cheeks and lips.  “His arms are rounded gold, set with jewels.  His body is ivory work, encrusted with sapphires.  His legs are alabaster columns, set upon bases of gold.”  He works out!  And she desires him – a desire that is celebrated, not shamed.  By the time she finishes describing him, we’re blushing.  In chapter 6, he begins to describe her beauty again, at length.  Hair, teeth, cheeks.  In chapter 7 he tells her she is delectable and continues to describe her feet, thighs, navel, belly, breasts.  More Fifty Shades of Gray than typical Bible.
 
But then she insists again, “I am my beloved’s and his desire is for me,”  as though she’s telling her rivals, “Step off.”  But more than jealousy, there is that recurring pressure of prejudice.  If I looked like you, no one would object to me kissing you in public.  “No one would despise me.”   
 
Anyone who has ever had to defend their choice of a mate, whether of a different race or class or of the same gender, this sounds familiar.  To this day you can hear queer people saying the same thing, wishing to show affection in public – just like everyone else.  Wishing that a kiss would not lead to stares and hatred or worse, harassment and death.  These subtexts are easy to miss but so important to understand.  Related to this, there’s a portion of the Song of Songs you may have heard at wedding ceremonies:  “For love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave.  Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.”  But now you can understand the reason for words about death and grave and floods are a pledge that their love will endure despite social pressure against it.
 
It’s both provocative and sensual.  It speaks of taste and touch and smell and sound.[2]  So, you may be thinking, what’s it doing in the Bible?  Or better yet, how did it stay there?  What did the Puritans think?
 
For centuries, it was justified as an allegory of God’s love for Israel or of Christ’s love for the church.  But how do you explain all the talk of six pack abs, red crimson lips, and breasts like two fawns?  To me, talking that way about God’s love or Christ’s love is super creepy.  And by the way, throughout the entire book, God is never once mentioned or even alluded to.  Instead of trying to rationalize or justify it, I’d rather just say that the Bible makes for a surprising source of erotic poetry. 
 
Bernard of Clairvaux, a Cistercian monk and mystic in 1200s, famously wrote 86 sermons on the Song of Songs.  Imagine a celibate monk having to sit through 86 sermons on red lips and breasts and chiseled abs.  Bernard had a good point, though.  He described a passionate spirituality and a zealous love, trying to shift spiritual formation away from cool intellectual enlightenment toward warm, earthly affections.  He wanted to inspire desire for God more than intellectual understanding of God.[3]  He talked of the feeling of yearning when one is absent from the other. It’s actually a very good point, but I still think it’s kind of creepy to talk about it in that way – though it certainly gets my attention.
 
Bottom line, I’m just grateful that this book exists, right there in the middle of God’s Holy Word, a corrective to the dualism of spirit as pure and body as sinful.  In the Song of Songs, the body is good, sexuality is healthy, and not just for the sake of being fruitful and multiplying.  The only shame is a society whose prejudice does not approve of their love.  They claim each other, they praise each other, they need each other, and persist.
 
So, what does this say to us today?  I do appreciate Bernard of Clairvaux’s desire for a more passionate spirituality, less oriented to the brain.  In addition, I can also hear my mentor in seminary, Dr. James B. Nelson, describe the marks of healthy and blessed relationships.[4]  Among them:  Blessed are relationships that are body-positive.  This means, do not fear or despise your body because that diminishes intimacy.  If you are negatively obsessed with your body, how can you be intimate?  If your lover says you are beautiful and you respond back, “No, I’m not,” or “Let me lose a few pounds first,” you are telling them that they are wrong to love someone so repulsive.  You do not have a face that only a mother could love.  Like the lovers in the Song of Songs, praise each other’s beauty and accept their compliments.  You are beautiful. 
 
What do you think?  When someone suggests that discussion of sexuality has no place in church, perhaps you could pick up your Bible and start reading to them from the Song of Songs and watch their face blush.  But that’s not the book’s intent.  It does not intend embarrassment and offers no apology about the goodness and explicit beauty of human love and the right for those who love one another to love one another.  Love is love.  And that’s good news.


[1] https://www.tolerance.org/magazine/fall-2015/whats-colorism

[2] Renita Weems, “Song of Songs,” Women’s Bible Commentary, Westminster/John Knox, 1992

[3] Wm. Lloyd Allen, “Bernard of Clairvaux’s Sermons on the Song of Song: Why They Matter,” Review and Expositor, 105, Summer 2008.

[4] James B. Nelson, “Relationships: Blessed and Blessing,” Blessing Ceremonies: Resources for Same-Gender Services of Commitment, UCC Coalition for LGBT Concerns, 1998

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
September 8, 2024
 
“Discerning Mind and Listening Heart”

1st Kings 2:1-12, 3: 5, 9 – The Message
Then David joined his ancestors. He was buried in the City of David. David ruled Israel for forty years—seven years in Hebron and another thirty-three in Jerusalem. Solomon took over on the throne of his father David; he had a firm grip on the kingdom.
 
God appeared to Solomon in a dream and said, “What can I give you? Ask.”
 
9 “Here’s what I want: Give me a God-listening heart so I can lead your people well, discerning the difference between good and evil. For who on their own is capable of leading your glorious people?”
 
 
It was a bloodbath on the way to the coronation.  King David had reigned for 40 years.  Who is going to succeed him?  You heard this story last week.  Amnon was the heir apparent, the oldest, the logical next king – until he was murdered by his half-brother Absalom, as pay back because Amnon violated his brother’s sister.  So, Absalom was then next in line.  He was one of David’s favorite sons, but Absalom violated David’s wives and died in a “tragic accident” involving, as I explained, his beautiful long flowing hair and some low hanging tree branches.  
 
So, number 1 and 2 are out.  Number 3 isn’t even named.  Number 4 decides to close down this circus.  Adonijah simply proclaimed himself the new king and the priests and generals jumped right on board.  Until Bathsheba went to David with a strategy to eliminate number 4 and skip over 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 so that her son, number 10, still just a teenager, would immediately be crowned King of Israel, after which son number 4 is killed for treason and 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 probably went into hiding.  It was a bloodbath on the way to the coronation of King Solomon.  But now, here we are.
 
Who is Solomon?  You’ve likely heard his name many times before but you may not know much about his story – other than now you know it was a bloodbath on the way to his coronation.  Solomon was not like Israel’s first two kings.  Unlike Saul and David, he had never been a warrior.  He hadn’t fought in battle nor led any troops.  Unlike David, he never had to work for a living.  He hadn’t killed a giant.  He hadn’t needed to hide from his wildly jealous, mad, father-in-law intent on killing him.  
 
No, Solomon is like the wealthy son privileged enough to travel around Europe drinking coffee on the streets of Paris one week and Rome the next, taking art classes and writing their thoughts in a journal.  I don’t have anything against that.  It’s just to say, Solomon’s upbringing was filled with ease until suddenly he found himself thrust onto the throne.  As son number 10, he hadn’t been prepared for the responsibility of leading a relatively peaceful and prosperous kingdom other than having experienced a peaceful and prosperous life, until Bathsheba pulled off this incredible upset. 
 
But there is one more very important difference.  God had chosen Saul and David to be kings, not a clever mother.  You may recall from earlier this summer, when God relented to the people’s demand to have a king of their own like everyone else, God directed the prophet Samuel to choose Saul, a very handsome man a foot taller than everyone else.  God, however, later regretted that choice, which led Samuel to the home of Jesse to find the next king.  You will remember that his 7 oldest boys were passed over one by one until Jesse was prompted to remember, “Oh yeah, I have one more son.”  David was summoned from his shepherds life of daydreaming and ran home from the pasture, tripping over a rock and landing right in front of Samuel.  David stood up red-faced and heard Samuel, “God says this one!”  But what did God think of the choice of Solomon?
 
Here’s what.  David is now sleeping with the ancestors – also known as dead.  Solomon had a dream in which God said, “Ask whatever you wish, and I’ll give it to you.”  Sounds like my kind of dream!
 
Solomon responded by complimenting his father and thanking God for having been so good to him.  Solomon extolled how David had lived faithfully, how his heart was right and how his relationships had been just, (I might want to add a disclaimer about how his mother had been treated, but I don’t want to be petty). 
 
So, after offering genuine flattery for his father, he humbly told God, “I’m too young for this.  I’m inexperienced and I know next to nothing.  But here I am, ready and willing.  Here’s what I want:  Give me a discerning mind and a listening heart so I can lead your people well.  No one is able to govern without your help.”
 
God was delighted with this request and responded:  “Since you haven’t asked for a long life and since you didn’t ask to become rich or that I smite your enemies, I’ll give you what you want.  And as a bonus, I’m also going to give you wealth and glory you didn’t ask for.  There will never be another king like you again.  And if you stay on course and follow my ways, I’ll give you a long life, just like your father.”  Solomon woke up and immediately went to Jerusalem to make offerings and sacrifices to God and then threw a feast for his servants. 
 
And soon his wisdom was tested.  It’s a story you may even know:  Two prostitutes came before the king.  The first woman said, “My king, this woman and I live in the same house.  I had a baby and three days later, she also had a baby.  One night in her sleep she rolled over him and he died.  I was sound asleep when she got up and put her dead son at my breast and then put my son at her breast.  When I got up in the morning to nurse him, here was this dead baby!  But I could tell immediately that he wasn’t mine.”
 
22 “Not so!” said the other woman. “The living one’s mine; the dead one’s yours.”  “No! Your son’s the dead one; mine’s the living one.”  They went back and forth in front of the king.
 
23 The king said, “What are we to do?”  And they began arguing again, ‘The living son is mine and the dead one is yours,’ and the other woman said, ‘No, the dead one’s yours and the living one’s mine.’”
 
24 The king called, “Silence!”  He thought for a moment and declared:  “I’m going to give half to each of you.  Bring me a sword.  Cut the living baby in two.”  One said, “Good idea!”
26 The other said, “No, no!  Give her the whole baby; don’t kill him!”
 
27 The king said: “Obviously, she’s the real mother.  Give the living baby to the first woman.”  28 Then word got around and everyone in Israel was in awe of the king’s discernment.
 
King Solomon’s wisdom is the stuff of legend.  It fills the pages of the Bible, such as the Books of Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs.  He didn’t actually write all of these, but the fact that they’re attributed to him speaks of his importance.
 
Solomon is said to have written 3,000 proverbs.  For example:

• The shrewd conceal their knowledge, but the heart of fools proclaim their stupidity. 
• Fools see their own way as right, but the wise listen to advice.
• People who watch their mouths guard their lives, but those who open their lips are ruined. 

 
The Book of Proverbs has more than 900 verses, some quite entertaining, some insightful.  Pick up your Bible one day and just put your finger on Proverbs and find some random verses.
 
However… There’s always a however, right?  There’s another side to Solomon.  We shouldn’t be surprised.  We’re all shadows and light.  It turns out he was also quite a terrorizing tyrant who didn’t rule very wisely.  He had some very grand, very ego driven building projects, like the largest palace in the known world, and some quite expensive tastes.  How did he fund all of these? 
 
He repeatedly squeezed each tribe and demanded ever increasing amounts of money from his people and when they ran out of money, he made them slaves.  It was one thing to make slaves out of conquered enemies – he had about 100,000 of those, not that it’s right – but it was quite another thing when he enslaved upwards of 30,000 of his own people.
 
He did employ one cost saving measure.  He wisely and prudently avoided going to war, a quite expensive endeavor.  Instead he created peace treaties by marrying the daughters and women of area kings and royalty.  His first wife was the daughter of the Egyptian pharaoh, which is highly ironic given the whole Moses thing.  But in this way, he was able to expand his territory and wealth one at a time until he famously had 700 wives plus 300 concubines – time for one night with each woman every 2 ½ years. 
 
But each new wife would have required a dowry, itself a crushing burden, also placed on the backs of the poor.  The wise king made some incredibly unwise decisions that caused his people to turn against him.  He was able to tamp down increasing rebellions, but upon his death, his foolish sons caused the kingdom to completely collapse and split apart.  The glorious United Monarchy created by their grandfather David was over. 
Solomon reigned for 40 years and died when he was the ripe old age of 55, remembered for his extraordinary accomplishments, tempered, like us all, by our blind spots.  
 
But there is something he did that we can do to help keep us on the right path:  To ask God, “give me a discerning mind and a listening heart.”  The essence of wisdom is both.  It doesn’t fix our problems, but it reminds us where to place our priorities.  And when I have acted unwisely, to return again, “Give me a discerning mind and a listening heart.” 
 
Wisdom is heart and mind, to which Jesus added, love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength.  If we do, we are fulfilling the first of the two most important commands.  The second is to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.  And what could be more wise than love? 
 
Well, if we learn from Solomon’s example, it would be wise to think of all the ways he failed to recognize how love walks around in public.  That when love walks around in public, there is justice.  Widows and orphans and all who are vulnerable are protected, not crushed by the ego burdens of the privileged.  When love walks around in public, strangers are welcomed.  Love isn’t a feeling.  It makes wars to cease and brings peace among nations.
 
Which makes me think, in this stressful political season, our best wisdom is to pray, “Give us all a discerning mind and a listening heart.”  And, please God, let wisdom prevail.
​

Sermons from Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
 
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
[email protected]
 
September 1, 2024
 
“Victimized but Not a Victim”

1st Kings 1:1, 15-21 – Common English Bible
King David grew old. The years had caught up with him. Even though they piled blankets on him, he couldn’t keep warm. 
 
15-16 Bathsheba went at once to the king in his palace bedroom. He was so old! Abishag was at his side making him comfortable. As Bathsheba bowed low, honoring the king, he said, “What do you want?”
 
17-21 “My master,” she said, “you promised me in God’s name, ‘Your son Solomon will be king after me and sit on my throne.’ And now look what’s happened—Adonijah has taken over as king, and my master the king doesn’t even know it! He has thrown a huge coronation feast—cattle and grain-fed heifers and sheep—inviting all the king’s sons, the priest Abiathar, and Joab head of the army. But your servant Solomon was not invited. My master the king, every eye in Israel is watching you to see what you’ll do—to see who will sit on the throne of my master the king after him. If you fail to act, the moment you’re buried my son Solomon and I are as good as dead.”
 

 
We left off last time with the prophet Nathan’s clever confrontation with David.  David proclaimed outrage over a rich man for having taken a poor man’s only lamb to feed the house guest of the rich man when he could have used one from his own flocks and herds of cattle.  David was enraged at such an obvious injustice.  And Nathan said, but you are that man.
 
The story of David and Bathsheba is one of the most infamous in the Bible, but it often dismisses what David did as just being “one of the boys” – a mid-life crisis – while Bathsheba is portrayed as a slutty seductress trying to attract David’s attention in order to climb the social ladder.  Sure, David had Bathsheba’s husband murdered to get him out of the way, but those kinds of things happen.  The gravity of the story is further diminished by calling David and Bathsheba’s encounter an affair instead of sexual assault.
 
Clearly, that’s not how Nathan saw it.  Nathan proclaimed that God’s judgment for David was that his wives would be taken from him, given to his friend who would have sex with them in the middle of the street, in broad daylight, because David tried to steal, rape, and murder in secret.  It is disturbingly explicit and astonishingly casual about the impact on Bathsheba, not to mention his other wives.  Again it’s like, these things happen. 
 
When confronted, David acknowledged his sin and was forgiven.  On one side of this story is forgiveness.  A reminder that while forgiveness does not erase what we have done, nor all the memories and pain, yet we are free from forever being defined by what we did.  On the other hand, while David acknowledged that he sinned against God, notably, he did not acknowledge harm to Bathsheba.
 
As one of our worshippers last week responded very thoughtfully, “I can’t help but notice a glaring absence - the victims.  David gets a stern talking to and then is immediately forgiven.  His child suffers illness and dies for David’s actions.  But his child is a person, Bathsheba is a person, all of the people involved in the care and love for the child are people.  Where is their love and forgiveness?  David gets to keep his wives, kingdoms and palaces, and gets off pretty scot free.” 
 
She made this brilliant analogy.  “Imagine David and Bathsheba in a fender bender.  David is in his big, luxury SUV and rear-ends Bathsheba’s old Prius at a traffic light.  Bathsheba’s Prius is totaled, David’s SUV has a dent but is otherwise fine.  David gets a stern talking to by God and has to keep the dent on his SUV, but is forgiven and moves on.  Bathsheba can’t get to work, can’t make money, and therefore can’t afford her child’s medical bills.  God forgiving David doesn’t fix her car or bring her child back to life.  She still has to deal with the consequences of David’s actions, arguably, more than he does.”  Absolutely correct.
 
So then, she asked, what about everyone else?  “Does all of their suffering and trauma suddenly go away because God forgave David?  ‘Sorry about the destruction of your lives and the trauma you’ll carry for the rest of your life, but God forgave me so it’s all good!’  The victims are collateral damage in the perpetrator’s story.  It’s something that happens all too frequently.”  Where is their justice?  Where is justice for Bathsheba?  Well, perhaps not justice exactly, but today is the story of how Bathsheba found her voice and how she used her power and authority. 
 
The rest of the Book of Second Samuel is pretty standard fare:  wars with this group and wars with that.  But interspersed are stories of David’s dysfunctional kids, including Absalom, son of his third wife, who murdered his half-brother Amnon because he violated Absalom’s sister Tamar – another tragic and disturbing story tucked away in this narrative.  David neither consoled Tamar nor punished Absalom. 
 
Perhaps Absalom could be forgiven for murdering his half-brother since he was standing up for his sister, but later, Absalom violated his father’s wives.  It’s really all so disturbing I hesitate to bring it up, especially Tamar, except that it once again illustrates that the Bible is real – not necessarily historically accurate, as I’ve said before, but the stories it tells are the kind of tragic and triumphant stories in real life.  These are deeply flawed people which means they were no better than we are – though I certainly hope we can aspire for better! 
 
Altogether, David had at least 17 sons by 8 different wives, plus sons by his concubines.  It’s about as dysfunctional a family dynamic as you can imagine.  Solomon was son number 10, far from the obvious heir apparent, but supposedly, though no one else seemed to know, David had promised this to Bathsheba.  There were constant intrigues and power-plays by the wives, each trying to put their son up front so that David would anoint him as his successor.
 
Amnon was the oldest, but when he was murdered by his half-brother, Absalom became the oldest.  But he got impatient and greedy and attempted to knock his father off his throne, and briefly succeeded, only to die in a tragic “accident” involving his long flowing hair and some tree branches.  No one knows what happened to number 3.
 
Now we’re down to the fourth oldest and he decided to simply take things into his own hands.  Adonijah declared himself the next king.  He was like Prince Charming, handsome and charismatic, and when he went on a victory tour around the kingdom, people fell under his charms.  The priests and generals were tired of all the shenanigans of David’s sons and welcomed this news.  To secure his place, Adonijah held a great feast for all the most important people who addressed him as the King of Israel.  That might have been it but Bathsheba was not going to let it be it.  She had a plan and went to David to tell him what was going on behind his back.
 
By this time, David was an old man.  He is described as so old – how old is he?  He could never get warm, even with a pile of blankets on him.  Their solution was to find the most stunningly beautiful woman in the entire kingdom to lay in the bed with him.  They add some very odd and seemingly unnecessary details that included, “but they didn’t have sex.”  TMI.  I didn’t need to know that.
 
Bathsheba’s plan:  she went to David and told him what was going on – the banquet, the priests and generals calling his son king.  With lots of flattery and strategy, she told him that Solomon, who was still just a teenager; she told him that Solomon wasn’t even invited to the banquet but you promised me that he would be the next king.  She played up the way David was being disrespected in order to generate sympathy and outrage.  Then she summoned Nathan and he asked, “have you named Adonijah as king?  Why didn’t you tell me?”  It was perfectly executed.
 
David called for his officials and told them to take Solomon to a sacred site in the Kidron Valley and immediately anoint him king.  Then blow the trumpet and proclaim all over Israel, “Long live King Solomon.”
 
When Adonijah found out, he knew his goose was cooked.  He could be executed for treason so he fled for the tabernacle and held on to the altar where he could not be touched.  Finally, Solomon promised to spare his life.  But then he asked Bathsheba to obtain permission for him to marry that stunningly beautiful young woman who had kept David warm.  Why?  I don’t know, but such a request was as good as making a claim on the throne, so Bathsheba pounced on another way to eliminate the competition.  He was found guilty of treason and…  You know.
 
Bathsheba found her voice and used what little power and authority she could muster.  She may have been victimized, but she was not forever a victim, though we may ask once again, what about the other people? 
 
And we’re back to a question I asked a few weeks ago:  Is there anything redemptive in this story?  Or is this simply the story of how Solomon rose in his dysfunctional family to become the unlikely new king?  We’ll learn more about him next week.
 
Of all the egregious things that have happened in these stories for the past few weeks, to Bathsheba and Tamar and Michal and everyone else casually tossed aside, one of the most egregious things in my mind may surprise you.  I have a bone to pick with God.  God forgave David too soon.  I’m all for forgiveness, but it has often led to some really bad news for victims, especially of abuse.  People told to forgive their abusers – whether spouses, parents, priests and ministers, or strangers.  God forgave them, why can’t you.  Just get over it.  But this is disrespectful and it’s harmful.
 
God forgave David too quickly, which of course is not something I can decide, but I can plead, don’t rush healing – and don’t send people back into harm.  Listen and don’t dismiss them or offer excuses – like all the horrible things said about Bathsheba.  I can say it to all of us, sit with people as long as they need.  Take as long as you need.  It’s like grief.  Hold out hope, but don’t demand a timetable.  Perhaps the good news of God forgiving David so quickly is that forgiveness is not like a check list.  Do this, this, and this, and it’s over. 
 
Thank God there is healing.  And thank God there is accountability.  There is forgiveness.  And there are amends to be made.  All of those together are the good news – the expectation of accountability as much as the promise of healing.  The freedom of forgiveness as much as the obligation to participate in repairing the world and the people we have harmed.  Bathsheba deserved that but she also demonstrates:  we may have been victimized, but we are not only or forever victims.  I ask, what is your power? 
 
And like David and so many others, we may have harmed someone – on purpose or by being careless.  What are your amends to make?