 Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org September 25, 2022 “It’s Really That Simple” Luke 16: 19-31 – Common English Bible “There was a certain rich man who clothed himself in purple and fine linen, and who feasted luxuriously every day. 20 At his gate lay a certain poor man named Lazarus who was covered with sores. 21 Lazarus longed to eat the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table. Instead, dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 “The poor man died and was carried by angels to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 While being tormented in the place of the dead, he looked up and saw Abraham at a distance with Lazarus at his side. 24 He shouted, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I’m suffering in this flame.’ 25 But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received good things, whereas Lazarus received terrible things. Now Lazarus is being comforted and you are in great pain. 26 Moreover, a great crevasse has been fixed between us and you. Those who wish to cross over from here to you cannot. Neither can anyone cross from there to us.’ 27 “The rich man said, ‘Then I beg you, Father, send Lazarus to my father’s house. 28 I have five brothers. He needs to warn them so that they don’t come to this place of agony.’ 29 Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets. They must listen to them.’ 30 The rich man said, ‘No, Father Abraham! But if someone from the dead goes to them, they will change their hearts and lives.’ 31 Abraham said, ‘If they don’t listen to Moses and the Prophets, then neither will they be persuaded if someone rises from the dead.’” Last week’s parable of the dishonest manager was perplexing. It was unclear exactly what Jesus meant so I encouraged us to lean into the discomfort of not knowing. Since he taught by use of parables, perhaps it’s better to not be sure what Jesus is saying than to know exactly what he’s saying. Because the point is to make us think. However, that was last week, this is today. The parable of the rich man and Lazarus seems so straightforward, what else can we say? But let’s see. Context: In response to the perplexing parable of the dishonest manager, Luke told us that the Pharisees sneered because they were “money lovers.” But if they sneered at that story, they’re really not going to like the follow up. Jesus began, “There was a certain rich man…” A good story set up. Like, “once upon a time.” But with just one introductory word, rich, I can imagine hair rising on the necks of these already sneering men. Jesus describes a man who wore purple, something only the very wealthy could afford, wearing fine linens every day, something meant only for special occasions, and feasting luxuriously every day, something meant only for feast days. He’s not just rich. He’s the owner of a $150 million yacht obscene-rich. And at his gate, lay Lazarus. By the way, this is the only time Jesus told a parable that used anyone’s name. And FYI, this is not the same Lazarus Jesus raised from the dead. It’s a common name which, in Hebrew, means God is my only help. And how very true that was. Perhaps he’s a former servant who’s outlived his usefulness, no longer any good to the rich man. Or perhaps, as Eugene Peterson puts it, he is someone “dumped at the gate” of the rich man. Regardless, he’s suffering and so desperate, dogs lick the sores which cover his body. That’s quite a vivid image. This is not a cute puppy showing love. It’s a description of his extreme, you might say obscene, misery. When they both die, the rich man is buried. What happened to Lazarus? Was he just tossed aside? But then comes the great reversal of fortune. Lazarus is carried by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man is tormented, thirsty, suffering in flames. But notice, the rich man still treats Lazarus like a servant. “Go fetch me some water.” Abraham told him, you’ve already had yours. “Child, remember that during your lifetime you received good things, whereas Lazarus received terrible things. Now Lazarus is being comforted and you are in great pain.” Whether or not he realized the error of his ways, he doesn’t beg for mercy, just water. To his credit, he does want to spare his brothers the same fate – maybe because they are just as callous as he was. But, Abraham told him, you heard the prophets your entire life exhort you to care for widows and orphans, the poor, strangers and foreigners. You knew the right thing to do. It didn’t have to be this way. And if you didn’t listen to Moses and the prophets then, why would your brothers listen now? They’re not going to believe someone who returns from the dead. For the rich man, the parable ends with no happy reunion, no sudden realization, no Hollywood ending. Now, the sneering Pharisees might have scoffed that a man so rich is just a caricature, yet still have been offended. However, for those in the crowd listening to Jesus tell the parable, they may have cheered on with a sense of satisfaction. Finally, justice. Is that a good thing? Satisfaction in an afterlife. Is that something we should desire? I suppose we first have to ask if we believe in an afterlife. What do you think? Modern, educated people tend to dismiss the ideas of heaven and hell as antiquated. That doesn’t mean that modern educated people have any less interest in ideas about what happens after we die. Is there an afterlife? And if there is, is it the same for everyone – whether you lived a good, wicked, or unremarkable life? I’d love to know the answer. The Bible doesn’t give just one answer to that question. For millennia, Sheol was the answer. When people died, they went to Sheol – literally the place of the dead – with no judgments attached. That was it. Life was simply over. There’s something satisfying about that kind of simplicity. But humans always want to make things more complicated! Ideas began to evolve. Dr. Amy-Jill Levine lays out[1] some of them, such as in the Book of Daniel, “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, some to shame and everlasting contempt.” That’s not fiery torment, nor does it imply everyone but “many.” Around the same time, the Wisdom of Solomon states, “The souls of the righteous are in the hands of God and no torment will ever touch them. The ungodly will be punished as reasoning deserves.” No eternal fire. Just reasonable punishment. Like a time-out. Or bed with no dessert. Fire and brimstone sermons would be modified to “You’ll be reasonably punished” sermons. Centuries later, the Pharisees taught, “every soul is imperishable, but only the soul of the good passes into another body, while the souls of the wicked suffer eternal punishment.” Good souls pass into another. That sounds a little like reincarnation. And a little like divine karma. But remember: karma isn’t a punishment imposed; it’s a consequence. John the Baptist was a member of the Essene community and as a North Dakotan, I like what they had to say: “for the good souls there is an abode reserved beyond the ocean, a place oppressed neither by snowfall or storms nor burning heat but is refreshed by the ever-gentle west wind blowing from the ocean.” Sounds like San Diego is heaven! And, “The wicked are banished to a gloomy and stormy dungeon, full of never-ending punishments.” Winter in North Dakota for eternity. About 200 years before Jesus, Greek culture began influencing Judaism’s ideas about an afterlife in ways that still influence popular culture – heaven with pearly gates or the fires of eternal damnation. Eventually, all sinners dangling in the hands of an angry God. But Levine asks, “What purpose does eternal punishment serve, other than certain revenge fantasies?” Or attempts to control people’s behavior. And yet, doesn’t justice have to be found somewhere? And if not in this life, then when? Sometimes I wished I believed in a literal hell full of thirsty racists. And a section for email scammers chained to iPhones with never ending alerts. And people who took their $150 million super yachts to the grave with them but are confined to an area of water only the size of a bathtub. Hey, if there’s no justice in this life, why not? And if not fiery torment, then isn’t it reasonable to wish that at least some people will wake up from sleeping in the dust to eternal contempt? Or that good people will all live with an ocean breeze in a San Diego that has enough affordable housing? More to the point, should a rich man who wears purple and fine linens every day, and eats like every day is a feast day; should he face consequences? But not because he was rich. Being rich wasn’t the issue. The issue in this parable are consequences he faced because every day he stepped over a poor man at his gate covered in sores without offering the very care demanded by the prophets. He could have done something. Anything. Whereas last week’s parable was perplexing, Pat Wahlen said this one’s simple. Am I wrong, she asked? It simply says, “If you have money, help others.” Sermons are supposed to be longer than six words, but yes. This parable is not about how to gain eternal rewards or to avoid eternal punishment. Like many parables of Jesus, this is how you have a meaningful life today, which is to bring the kingdom of God a little closer for everyone on earth, as it is in heaven. One cannot have a meaningful life today without attending to the suffering that surrounds us. In the Book of James it says, “Dear friends, do you think you’ll get anywhere in this life by learning all the right words but never doing anything? Does merely talking about faith indicate that a person really has it? For instance, you come upon an old friend dressed in rags and half-starved and say, “Good morning, friend! Be clothed in Christ! Be filled with the Holy Spirit!” and walk off without providing so much as a coat or a cup of soup—where does that get you? Isn’t it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense?” And isn’t that simply the message of the parable? It’s not about consigning the rich to hell or presuming that Lazarus was justified simply by being poor. The point is to listen to and follow the instruction of our faith – from Moses to the prophets to Jesus – today. Not in some hereafter. One of my favorite lines about a progressive Christian faith comes from UCC pastor Kenneth Samuel: No pie in the sky by and by when we die. But something sound on the ground while we’re still around. It’s more than a “meaningful” life but one where our heart is changed into a deeper, more sacrificial, God-loves-us-enough-to-expect-more-from-us kind of life. Yes, it really is that simple: If you have money, help others. And if you don’t have money, help others. [1] Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi, HarperOne, 2014
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 Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org September 18, 2022 “A Perplexing Parable in a Baffling Book” Luke 16: 1-13 – The Message “Jesus said to his disciples, “There was once a rich man who had a manager. He got reports that the manager had been taking advantage of his position by running up huge personal expenses. So he called him in and said, ‘What’s this I hear about you? You’re fired. And I want a complete audit of your books.’ 3-4 “The manager said to himself, ‘What am I going to do? I’ve lost my job as manager. I’m not strong enough for a laboring job, and I’m too proud to beg. . . . Ah, I’ve got a plan. Here’s what I’ll do . . . then when I’m turned out into the street, people will take me into their houses.’ 5 “Then he went at it. One after another, he called in the people who were in debt to his master. He said to the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ 6 “He replied, ‘A hundred jugs of olive oil.’ “The manager said, ‘Here, take your bill, sit down here—quick now—write fifty.’ 7 “To the next he said, ‘And you, what do you owe?’ “He answered, ‘A hundred sacks of wheat.’ “He said, ‘Take your bill, write in eighty.’ 8-9 “Now here’s a surprise: The master praised the crooked manager! And why? Because he knew how to look after himself. Streetwise people are smarter in this regard than law-abiding citizens. They are on constant alert, looking for angles, surviving by their wits. I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right—using every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival, to concentrate your attention on the bare essentials, so you’ll live, really live, and not complacently just get by on good behavior.” 10-13 Jesus went on to make these comments: If you’re honest in small things, you’ll be honest in big things; If you’re a crook in small things, you’ll be a crook in big things. If you’re not honest in small jobs, who will put you in charge of the store? No worker can serve two bosses: He’ll either hate the first and love the second Or adore the first and despise the second. You can’t serve both God and the Bank. Of all of Jesus’ many strange, confounding, and perplexing parables, this is the strangest, most confounding, most perplexing, and most outrageous of them all – or at least in the top ten. But this is a real doozy to which many of the scholars who help preachers work through these texts have said, “Good luck.” As you heard read, the master praised the crooked manager because “he knew how to look after himself.” Or the more traditional form: The master praised the dishonest manager because “he had acted shrewdly.” What do you think Jesus would have said about Fred? Fred promised God, “I’ll sell my house and give all the money to the poor, if you solve my problem.” One day he realized he would have to make good on his promise, so Fred put his house on the market with the caveat – anyone who bought the house would have to take his cat too. He listed the house for the sum of $1. The cat came along for the bargain price of $100,000. When the house sold, Fred promptly and proudly gave the entire proceeds to the poor. He had promised nothing about the cat. He was just being shrewd, right? But it is wealth gained by dishonest means! You mean to say Jesus doesn’t care? Our Lunch and Lectionary group wrestled with this text on Thursday. As you can imagine, we had a lot of questions. But we had an interesting insight. We talked about people who come up with so many different scams, like the emails that pretend to be the pastor asking you to buy gift cards because of some kind of emergency. Who comes up with these ideas? Well, we thought, the text says, “I want you to be smart in the same way – but for what is right.” As it claims, “Streetwise people are smarter than law-abiding citizens. Use every adversity for creative survival, concentrate on the bare essentials. If you do, you’ll live, really live, and not be complacent or just get by on good behavior.” OK, so I think I understand a little piece of what Jesus is saying. “Be as smart as the scammers but for good.” But even if that’s what it’s saying, I still don’t know what we’re supposed to do with it. And maybe that’s the point. C.H. Dodd defines a parable as “a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought.” So, another way to say it, a parable is a story to which listeners can easily relate. It welcomes us in, then takes a strange turn, and leaves us with enough doubt so as not to know exactly what to do with it. And therefore, it causes us to think. There’s not always a moral at the end of a parable. Sometimes that frustrates us. There’s supposed to be moral at the end of a story – something that wraps it up in a big bow. Parables defy that expectation which is why after preaching for 30 years, I can always find something new for today. So, context. The parable of the dishonest manager is right in the middle of a whole bunch of other parables and teachings about wealth and poverty involving tax collectors and sinners and Pharisees and legal experts. Verse 14 that immediately follows says, “The Pharisees heard all this and sneered at Jesus.” They sneered because, they loved money; they were money-lovers; they were obsessed with money. The very next parable, which we’ll hear next week, is of what happened after a poor man named Lazarus and a rich man died. I want to make it clear, Jesus doesn’t condemn people for having money. He invites us to have a proper relationship with it. To those obsessed with money, he often invited them to give it away for their own good because it was their obsession. Jesus said, it’s impossible to serve God and money equally. Money is meant to serve God, not God to serve money. You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Money is the root of all evil.” But that’s not what the Bible says. “The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.” In Second Timothy it says, “Some have wandered away from the faith and have impaled themselves with a lot of pain because they made money their goal.” Remember, Jesus relied on wealth, especially of women, to support his ministry. But into this mix, somehow, today’s parable seems to praise those who obtain wealth through dishonest means. That seems like an especially disconcerting message as we present Bibles to elementary school children and encourage them to read it. Perhaps it should come with caution tape around it. Think about it. Sometimes the Bible is violent. It seeks retribution against enemies, portrays a God who is vengeful, celebrates conquerors, and praises immoral victories. And no matter how cute the animals going two by two in the ark might be, everything else drowned in a great flood sent by God. The Bible includes stories that are inappropriate for children, like Ruth uncovering Boaz’s “feet” before they were married. There’s enough in it that it should probably be banned from libraries for explicit content. The Bible tells of a worldview we don’t believe in and represents, without question, cultural norms on things like women and slavery that we find appalling. The Bible, the most recent part of which is 2,000 years ago, is so far removed from us that it doesn’t understand the world we live in. The Bible often leaves us offended, with more questions than answers, more confused than confident. And frankly, the Bible is often boring. Forget the sleeping pill. Turn to First Chronicles. The 27th chapter tells us that “The 8th army commander for the 8th month was somebody whose name I can’t pronounce from some group I’ve never heard of from some place that may not still exist.” And for some reason, this is Holy Scripture. Ultimately, however, the Bible tells us of a God who doesn’t give up on us no matter how willful or clueless humans are. And ironically, despite thousands of years between then and now, the Bible does in fact understand the complexity of our world. The more things change, the more they stay the same. And it does challenge us to confront the cultural norms we find appalling today. Indeed, the Bible does often leave us with more questions than answers, more confused than confident, but that’s good because it’s not a book of rules but a collection of books written by people who are as confused and as hopeful as we are. People who believe there is more to this world than what we can see. One of the best things the Bible teaches is that in our age instant everything, time is eternal and we are part of continuing generations. We don’t know how or when, but a life of faith is to do our part to make things right from whatever wrong was done in previous generations so that we keep moving forward, through the teachings of Jesus and the grace of God, to the vision of a world where the wolves will lie down the lambs, and a little child shall lead us. We never give up hope. Sometimes the Bible gets a little too personal and maybe Jesus talks about money a little too much, but he never stops asking us to find a satisfying life through generosity, to always care for widows and orphans, whomever they are in our world today, and welcome strangers and aliens, from wherever they come in every age. In the Bible, we are confronted us with our faults and failures and leads us to find value in our faults and failures because everything that happens can lead to good. Even the crucifixion of God’s own child. The Bible teaches that no one is ever too far gone, nothing we’ve done is ever so awful, that it can’t be redeemed by grace. Not because of the things we do to make up for it. It accepts our simple asking for forgiveness as enough. There is mercy. There’s also accountability. There is reconciliation. There’s also repair to be made. Yet, bottom line there is always the possibility of rehabilitation and restoration. Always, always, and always, there is the opportunity to change. If there wasn’t, we would only become angrier and more distant from one another. That’s good for no one. So back to our children. As I think of the world they are growing up in, full of anger and hatred and often a feeling that some people are beyond help because of their beliefs or actions, we need people who will never give up on our neighbors. We can be angry and disappointed. But no one is ever so far gone that what “they’ve” done and especially what we’ve done can’t be redeemed and used for good. Because, as Paul told the Romans, there is nothing in all of creation that will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. And love. That’s really the continuing and repeating story of the Bible. And we know how messy and wonderful and awful and beautiful love can be. I’m grateful that my job requires me to wrestle with some of life’s most perplexing questions and find meaning. I’ll admit to having a sometimes love/hate relationship with the Bible. Hearing the Bible used against you as a weapon will do that. But I can’t imagine basing my life on anything else because it provides a structure and framework against which to ask questions about life and how to live. To take what gives life and leave the rest behind. I encourage you to give it a try. Read a little bit; something simple. Don’t start at the beginning and try to read all the way through. You will lose interest at the listing of the 8th army commander for the 8th month, if not before. Start by reading just one gospel – try Luke. You won’t understand everything. I don’t. Then Matthew. Then Mark. If you have a question, ask me. Join us on Zoom on Thursday for lunch and good conversation. But let me assure you: In this baffling book, being perplexed by what it says is much better than knowing exactly what it says. Why else would Jesus have used the method of perplexing parables to tell his story. It means we can keep learning and growing. We will keep growing in understanding. Though, I’m not sure I will ever understand how wealth gained by dishonest means is a good thing. And not knowing, that’s OK.  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org September 4, 2022 “How Do You Change Things You Don’t Control” Philemon – Common English Bible From Paul, who is a prisoner for the cause of Christ Jesus, and our brother Timothy. To Philemon our dearly loved coworker, 2 Apphia our sister, Archippus our fellow soldier, and the church that meets in your house. 3 May the grace and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you. 4 Philemon, I thank my God every time I mention you in my prayers 5 because I’ve heard of your love and faithfulness, which you have both for the Lord Jesus and for all God’s people. 6 I pray that your partnership in the faith might become effective by an understanding of all that is good among us in Christ. 7 I have great joy and encouragement because of your love, since the hearts of God’s people are refreshed by your actions, my brother. 8 Therefore, though I have enough confidence in Christ to command you to do the right thing, 9 I would rather appeal to you through love. I, Paul—an old man, and now also a prisoner for Christ Jesus— 10 appeal to you for my child Onesimus. I became his father in the faith during my time in prison. 11 He was useless to you before, but now he is useful to both of us. 12 I’m sending him back to you, which is like sending you my own heart. 13 I considered keeping him with me so that he might serve me in your place during my time in prison because of the gospel. 14 However, I didn’t want to do anything without your consent so that your act of kindness would occur willingly and not under pressure. 15 Maybe this is the reason that Onesimus was separated from you for a while so that you might have him back forever— 16 no longer as a slave but more than a slave—that is, as a dearly loved brother. He is especially a dearly loved brother to me. How much more can he become a brother to you, personally and spiritually in the Lord! 17 So, if you really consider me a partner, welcome Onesimus as if you were welcoming me. 18 If he has harmed you in any way or owes you money, charge it to my account. 19 I, Paul, will pay it back to you (I’m writing this with my own hand). Of course, I won’t mention that you owe me your life. 20 Yes, brother, I want this favor from you in the Lord! Refresh my heart in Christ. 21 I’m writing to you, confident of your obedience and knowing that you will do more than what I ask. 22 Also, one more thing—prepare a guest room for me. I hope that I will be released from prison to be with you because of your prayers. 23 Epaphras, who is in prison with me for the cause of Christ Jesus, greets you, 24 as well as my coworkers Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke. 25 May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. You just heard an entire book of the Bible, the shortest – just 25 verses. It’s a letter written by Paul to Philemon (phy LEE mon) about Onesimus (o NESS ih muss), a human being who is the property of Philemon. It’s unique among all the New Testament letters because it is written to one person instead of to a community, such as the Ephesians or the church in Philippi. Though this letter was written to one person to address one issue, it was intended for the whole church that met in Philemon’s house to hear it. It may seem quite obscure about an issue that was unique to its time, but it’s actually a rather beautiful description of what it means to be “In Christ,” as a person and as a church. Paul is fond of the phrase “In Christ” and uses it a number of times – such as when he told the Galatians, “In Christ there is no Jew or Greek, In Christ there is no male or female, In Christ there is no slave or free.” In this letter, Paul offers a very concrete way for Philemon and Onesimus to live “In Christ.” But it depended on Philemon. Therefore, Paul used his masterful rhetorical skills, attempting to persuade Philemon to accept Paul’s request. 1)He began by calling Philemon “dear friend” and praising him about all the wonderful things he’s heard about what Philemon is doing. Flattery is a good place to start. 2)And while he praises Philemon, Paul calls himself “just an old man” despite his exalted stature in the Church. 3)Then Paul gets down to business by telling Philemon he could simply command him to do what he’s about to ask, but instead he wants to appeal to him on the basis of love. With a voluntary good deed, you can be a hero! 4)And the issue? Onesimus, a slave who ran away from Philemon, whom Paul calls “my child,” “my own heart.” He “rightfully” belonged back. 5)But first, Paul praises Onesimus for being so “useful” to him in prison. It goes without saying, though he kind of does, Onesimus has been more useful than Philemon. Like, hint, hint, where have you been? 6)And then the big ask: I could have kept him here, but “take Onesimus back, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a dearly loved brother. Welcome him as you would welcome me.” Remarkably, Paul makes himself equal with Onesimus. 7)Paul promises, “I’ll happily pay you if Onesimus has caused you economic hardship.” A nice promise, followed by, “I won’t say anything about how much you owe your life to me.” Subtle, right!? 8)Paul concludes by praising Philemon again. “I’m confident you will do as I ask.” Remember, you can be a hero. 9)And finally, prepare a guest room for me, which means, I’ll be back to check on how you’ve done with my request. 10)And one more thing. He adds greetings from people who know Paul sent this letter. Message: others are watching you too. There’s often a fine line between masterful persuasion and master manipulation, but behind it is the bottom line for Paul: this is what it means to be “In Christ.” We have to remember that Paul and this community were not in positions of power except among themselves. They were a distinct minority in the Roman system of power and values, which included that some people were free and others were unfree. Domination was practiced by force, by violence… Or simply by the inertia of “this is how it’s always been done” – sometimes more powerful than any other influence. While Jesus often provoked authorities intentionally, decades later, this minority didn’t want to draw attention to itself or rock the boat and catch the eye of the Roman authorities. It was understandable self-protection. Preservation. And yet, to be “In Christ” is to be different. They couldn’t help but live in direct contradiction to some values. In a culture that valued power over, the early church practiced equality. Not only that no one is better than another but that no one shall exercise domination over another. Notably, of men and women, until they unfortunately began to mimic the culture around them. But Paul’s message to early Christians: Those who are In Christ are not to practice power over each other, whether free or unfree. From my place in history, I wish Paul had gone further and made a clear case that slavery is evil. It might have been “legal” in the Roman Empire, but among Christians I wish he had said it must be absolutely forbidden. One cannot be “In Christ” and own another. It is the greatest betrayal of being “In Christ” that the church ever had anything to do with slaveholding or the justification of slavery – the remnants of which we still see today in movements for white supremacy. But my wishing that Paul had not accommodated the slavery of his day is like what will be said of me 100 years from now. I wish David would have said, I wish he would have done… For example, most of my ministry has involved some form of food outreach – collecting food or funds for hunger centers and food pantries, working at or hosting shelters for unhoused people in our church, and here, the food distribution in the parking lot, Uptown… If I can criticize Paul for accommodating slavery in his time instead of condemning it, in a hundred years I might well deserve criticism for accommodating the unequal world we live in. It may be asked of the church 100 years from now, how could you prop up such a system? The church should have been upending inequality, not helping to perpetuate it. Just like I ask of our forebears 150 years ago, how could you help the government run Indian boarding schools. 150 years from now people will be asking of the church, why didn’t you do more about climate change? But how can we change things we don’t control? Here’s what Paul did. With one personal letter treasured by the church, Paul abolished hierarchical relationships. Well, one relationship. But he modeled the radical abolition of unequal relationships. And not just that Onesimus would be equal spiritually but, as Paul was fond of saying, “in the flesh.” How can we change things we don’t control? We start one relationship at a time. How can we change things we don’t control? Not by forcing ideas upon people but, like Paul, by masterful persuasion. Paul could have told Philemon what to do but instead loved him into changing his thinking. People won’t agree with what we think are great ideas unless they first know there is a great love. Practice love until love is received. And then work for change. How can we change things we don’t control? By joining forces. Not every movement for equality succeeds, but no movement began without someone daring to say, “why don’t we…” One dream shared becomes a vision and we know that a people without vision will perish. We start change by speaking up among the people with whom we are “In Christ.” That’s something we can do. We can choose the power of good even while mired in systems of domination. In 1985 Riverside Church in New York City became the first Open and Affirming congregation in the UCC. My church in Denver was #71, six years later. It took years, one at a time. One relationship at a time. Not by shame but by the persuasion of love. Today, by declaring our vision of equality In Christ, there are over 1,700 Open and Affirming churches - about 40% of the UCC and growing faster than ever. Antoinette Brown was ordained by the Congregational church in South Butler, New York, in 1853. The UCC claims her as the first ordained woman in modern history. She quit 10 months later and became a Unitarian. She was not shown a lot of love. It took many more years, but slowly, one courageous woman at a time, now more than 50% of pastors in UCC churches are women. And a small, slowly growing, number who are transgender. One relationship at a time, not by shame but by the persuasion of love, a movement of people In Christ are changing the world. During Paul’s time, the Christian minority walked a fine line between two worlds. Christians are not a minority today and increasingly it feels like some of them want to practice a form of dominance over everyone else. Feels like it and some downright say it out loud. It’s not biblical, it’s an ideological power grab. Within this environment, our voice as progressive Christians can feel pretty small at times, but we have Paul’s clear call. As I read the letter to Philemon, to be In Christ means:
To deconstruct is not to destroy people, consider them enemies, or shame anyone into change. It is to love people. How do we change things we can’t control? In Christ, one relationship at a time. How do we change things we can’t control? In Christ, by the persuasion of love. How do we change things we can’t control? In Christ, by joining together. And as we change ourselves, the love of Christ will speak louder than any words. (we sing the following:) So, sing a new world into being, sound a loud and hopeful theme, find a tune for silent yearnings, lend your voice and dare to dream. Sing a new world into being.  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org August 28, 2022 “Least Expected” Luke 10: 25-37 – Common English Bible “A legal expert stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to gain eternal life?” 26 Jesus replied, “What is written in the Law? How do you interpret it?” 27 He responded, “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.”[a] 28 Jesus said to him, “You have answered correctly. Do this and you will live.” 29 But the legal expert wanted to prove that he was right, so he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. He encountered thieves, who stripped him naked, beat him up, and left him near death. 31 Now it just so happened that a priest was also going down the same road. When he saw the injured man, he crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way. 32 Likewise, a Levite came by that spot, saw the injured man, and crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way. 33 A Samaritan, who was on a journey, came to where the man was. But when he saw him, he was moved with compassion. 34 The Samaritan went to him and bandaged his wounds, tending them with oil and wine. Then he placed the wounded man on his own donkey, took him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day, he took two full days’ worth of wages and gave them to the innkeeper. He said, ‘Take care of him, and when I return, I will pay you back for any additional costs.’ 36 What do you think? Which one of these three was a neighbor to the man who encountered thieves?” 37 Then the legal expert said, “The one who demonstrated mercy toward him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” (NOTE: This service is focused on kids and teens returning to school. Earlier we blessed their backpacks.) This is such a great story and has such a great ending – go and do the same. Show compassion. Have mercy. One way to look at this story is to ask: Who do you identify with in the parable? Which character in the story is you? Are you the legal expert asking Jesus how to get into heaven? Are you one of the thieves or bullies who beat up the traveler? Are you the priest or the Levite who passed by on the other side? Are you the Samaritan who responds with compassion? How about the guy in the ditch? What if you and I were that guy. The people Jesus told this story to, they were the guy in the ditch. They knew what it felt like to that guy. Or at least, the fear of what it would be like. Imagine walking to school and there’s this one block where the bullies always stand and harass kids, ready to pounce, especially on someone who’s alone. Especially someone as nerdy and shy as I was growing up. What would you do? A block away I’d start getting nervous, my heart would start pumping. I’d get red in the face. I’d better start planning a strategy. Should I take a longer way to school? But I’m running late. Should I try to run past them as fast as I can? But I look funny when I run so I’d probably just draw more attention. Should I get some friends and go together? But today I’m alone. The people who heard Jesus tell this story understood travelling through that dangerous area between Jerusalem and Jericho. It was full of robbers and thieves who beat up travelers and stole from them – think of them as road pirates. They’d beat you up and leave you for half dead. And the people listening to Jesus could all relate to questions like, when you’re out on that road alone, who will defend me? Who will help me? Who will pick me up when I get knocked down? Who will do those things when you’re all alone? The point Jesus is making is that it won’t be the people you expect. Jesus used the characters of the priest and Levite to make his point. They’re not bad people, but they are the people you’d expect to help you. Well, in this situation, imagine you’re lying on the ground, hurt, bleeding, and embarrassed, and then, thank God, here comes a teacher. The teacher will help me. But he just walks by. And then the principal. Yes, here comes my help! But she just walks by. None of your friends are around. You’re all alone. And then you see one of the bullies coming toward you. Oh no. I think to myself, just leave me alone. Go away. But imagine. He kneels down to brush off the dust. He extends his arm to help you get up. He helps you limp to the nurse’s office. He leaves you there and goes off to class but promises to come back and check on you later and help you get home. He even offers to walk to school with you the next day so the bullies will leave you alone – at risk to his own safety. Wow! That’s a lot! Right? I wouldn’t expect all that. He’s the absolute last person you would expect to help you. And that’s exactly the point Jesus is making. I would expect the teacher and the principal to stop and help, not the bully. Jesus likes to turn things upside down. What’s he saying? Don’t make assumptions about people. Don’t judge. The people who heard Jesus tell this story didn’t like Samaritans. Didn’t trust Samaritans. Had nothing good to say about Samaritans. Wouldn’t want to hear anyone else say anything good about Samaritans because there’s nothing good to say about a Samaritan. And who is the hero of the story? A Samaritan. Jesus likes to turn things upside down. Like who’s your neighbor? The people you don’t want as your neighbors. And love them as much as you love yourself. Don’t judge. Don’t make assumptions about people. And yet I do it all the time. If I were stranded along the road, I’d expect a guy driving a Prius with a bumper sticker – Save the Earth – to stop. I’d except a woman with a bumper sticker – Free Love – driving a VW bus to stop. I wouldn’t expect, nor maybe even want, the woman with a bumper sticker – go back where you came from – to help. In Jesus’ story, that’s exactly who stops. Jesus told the legal expert concerned about getting into heaven, be like the Samaritan – be like one of “those people.” The person you least expected had compassion. Go and do the same. Help anyone, friend or enemy, who is hurt. Do that instead of worrying about heaven. And if you do that, you will make it like heaven on earth.  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org August 21, 2022 “Why Wait One More Day?” Luke 13: 10-17 – Common English Bible Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. 11 A woman was there who had been disabled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and couldn’t stand up straight. 12 When he saw her, Jesus called her to him and said, “Woman, you are set free from your sickness.” 13 He placed his hands on her and she straightened up at once and praised God. 14 The synagogue leader, incensed that Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, responded, “There are six days during which work is permitted. Come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath day.” 15 The Lord replied, “Hypocrites! Don’t each of you on the Sabbath untie your ox or donkey from its stall and lead it out to get a drink? 16 Then isn’t it necessary that this woman, a daughter of Abraham, bound by Satan for eighteen long years, be set free from her bondage on the Sabbath day?” 17 When he said these things, all his opponents were put to shame, but all those in the crowd rejoiced at all the extraordinary things he was doing. Whenever I encounter this text, I think of Alice Farnam. Alice was a member of my church in Cleveland. She was famous for two things. She was the daughter of the architect of Archwood’s beautiful colonial style sanctuary where she sat every single Sunday under the high barrel-vaulted ceiling next to the tall plain windows that filled the room with light. More importantly, she was famous for bringing her homemade potato chips to every potluck. Alice was barely a hundred pounds, short and slender, and had been severely bent over for most of her life. Her 80-year-old body was so rigid that if you hugged her too hard, you were afraid of breaking her. She had to lean backward to look you in the face. To make her famous chips, she rode the bus to buy potatoes at the West Side Market a huge, hundred-year-old, open-air market crowded with people bumping into each other while they move among dozens of fruit and vegetable stands. Alice wasn’t very strong so she couldn’t carry a lot. She’d buy maybe 6 or 7 small potatoes, ride the bus a few miles back home, walk several blocks to her house, walk back to the bus, ride it to the market again, and slowly repeat all day. Then she used her gnarled hands to cut thin slices and put them in boiling oil. I can’t even imagine how much effort it took, but she didn’t do it for admiration or attention. It was a very laborious labor of love like few others would do and she was loved and appreciated in return. The bent-over woman at the synagogue that day wasn’t looking for attention either. She was simply among the faithful who went to the synagogue every sabbath. I doubt very many people ever noticed her in the crowd. She hadn’t gone there that day seeking healing. But for some reason, in the crowd, Jesus saw her. That’s all it says. Jesus “saw her.” He called her over, placed his hands on her, and said, “Woman you are set free.” She stood up straight and began praising God. Stories about healing in the Bible are complicated. Among other things, they often involve the tension of why her and not someone else. For example, why not Alice? How many times in 80 years of faithful church attendance had Alice heard the story of the bent over woman and wondered what that would be like? What would it be like to look someone straight in the eye? To drive. To swim. To have no more back and neck pain. We celebrate healing stories as wonderful acts of God even as we are confounded by such difficult questions as why God doesn’t act like that for everyone. But her healing is not the end of the story. For the first time in 18 years, the woman could stand up straight – maybe even raise her hands above her head in praise. But this miraculous act drew condemnation from the synagogue leader, who spoke to the crowd, not directly to Jesus, about how he broke the rules about sabbath. Faithful observance of sabbath meant there were 39 kinds of labor one should not do. Anything done to save someone’s life was permitted but rabbinic authorities were divided on whether non-life-threatening conditions were permitted – such as the condition of the bent-over woman or the man with a withered hand Jesus had also healed on the sabbath earlier in Luke, which drew condemnation, as well. And why these prohibitions? Because of the 4th of the Ten Commandments. In Exodus 20 it says, “Remember the Sabbath day and treat it as holy. Six days you may work and do all your tasks but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. Do not do any work on it – not you, your sons and daughters, your male and female servants, your animals, or the immigrant who is living with you. Because the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and everything that is in them in six days, but rested on the seventh day. This is why the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.” Once a week, rest is a sacred duty more important than even work. Think how radical that is. Rest is a holy activity, a gift directly from God. It’s not about rules. It’s love for us. But did you know there are two lists of Ten Commandments? There’s the one we’re most familiar with in Exodus tied to the creation story focused on resting on the 7th day because God rested. But there’s also a list of Ten Commandments in the Book of Deuteronomy, the same commandments, but with a different focus. In Deuteronomy it’s not about honoring the 7th day of creation but rather “Keep the Sabbath…You shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt, but the Lord your God brought you out of there with a strong hand and an outstretched arm. That’s why the Lord your God commands you to keep the Sabbath day.” Sabbath is tied to freedom from bondage. When Jesus responded to the synagogue leader about sabbath, Jesus was talking about the 4th commandment in Deuteronomy because he described his actions as liberation. You are set free. He released her from bondage. By healing on the sabbath, Jesus wasn’t disregarding the importance of the Law. He wasn’t criticizing the observance of sabbath but that their interpretation was too limited. Sabbath, Jesus demonstrated, is to commemorate the freedom of slaves. Therefore, freeing this woman from her bondage is completely in line with the intention of the sabbath commandment. Yes, rest is a holy activity, a sacred duty. But it’s more. It is liberation from that which keeps you in bondage all week. Who holds you back? What holds you down? Take a day off from that every week. If only for a day, we are released from stress with the practice of gratitude in worship. If only for a day, we are free from domination by the people who control our lives by remembering we are the children of the Most High God, who desires our freedom. What more could we ask for? While all the action between Jesus and the synagogue leader is going on, the woman is off to the side, still in wonderment about how she can move her neck. Has the sky always been that blue? She could always hear the birds but now she can watch them flying by without moving her whole body. She can take a full deep breath again after nearly two decades. What had happened to her 18 years ago? Was it an accident? Some kind of illness? Jesus told her she was set free from your “sickness,” but that can mean a lot of things. Eugene Peterson described her as “twisted and bent over with arthritis.” But the original text speaks of her being afflicted by a spirit. What kind of spirit? Perhaps a spirit of grief. A spirit of grief over the loss of someone she could not bear losing 18 years ago, like a child. Perhaps a spirit of rage. A spirit of anger at something that was done to her. Or a spirit of guilt over something she had done to someone else. Or maybe a spirit of worthlessness. A spirit of insignificance after being condemned by harsh words or physical abuse. Feeling as though you have no value can physically bend you over, perpetually looking down not only on the ground but upon yourself. There are many spirits that can weigh us down. Well, from whatever spirit held her back from flourishing, Jesus saw her, spoke to her, and set her free. But, if only it had happened the next day. Jesus healed her on the wrong day. The religious authority asked, what’s your hurry? Why couldn’t she wait? Afterall, she had been bent-over for 18 years. Do it tomorrow when it’s legal. How often are people who seek their liberation told to wait or do it a different way? Has anyone ever asked you, “What’s your hurry?” A man in Texas wrote a letter to Dr. King that read, “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but is it possible that you are in too great of a religious hurry?” But Dr. King noted that “wait” often means “never.” On April 3rd of 1963, a series of actions began in Birmingham, Alabama, to bring national attention to efforts to desegregate public facilities – lunch counter sit-ins, sit-ins at the library, kneel-ins at churches, marches on city hall and the county courthouse, and a boycott of downtown merchants. After every other legal avenue or attempt at moral persuasion had failed, all that was left was direct action. Eight clergymen responded by issuing an “Appeal for Law and Order and Common Sense,” published in the local paper, which read in part, “We recognize the natural impatience of people who feel that their hopes are slow in being realized. But demonstrations to realize those hopes are unwise and untimely.” On April 10th the city obtained a state court injunction against the protests and two days later, on Good Friday, Dr. King was arrested for violating that injunction and placed in solitary confinement for 10 days. From the Birmingham jail he asked those eight clergymen why they deplored the demonstrations more than the conditions that made them necessary. Just like the synagogue leader. If he had only expressed as much concern for the woman as he did for the rule. Actually, however, he simply didn’t understand that it’s not a commandment to keep someone down with burdens but a commandment to help us stand back up with freedom. That’s what Jesus demonstrated. But the leader didn’t understand and instead criticized Jesus. By the logic of the synagogue leader, there had been 5,634 previously acceptable days to heal the woman. One more can’t hurt. We might tend to agree. That seems reasonable. Why can’t Jesus wait one more day? But if Jesus couldn’t wait, why would we? For example, what’s the rush with affordable housing? We have rules to follow. But why are the needs and fears of property owners of more value than the unhoused, than teachers and firefighters and students graduating from college who can’t afford to live here? What’s the rush with asylum seekers? Why can’t they wait? What’s the rush with climate change? As the temperatures rise to unbearable levels, as the seas rise to drown island villages, as forests burn and choke the air, what’s the rush? What’s wrong with one more day? Decades of one more day have shown us. Even as The Rev. Dr. William Barber asks these same questions, he can sympathize with the bent-over woman. He has the form of arthritis known as ankylosing spondylitis (ang·kuh·low·suhng spaan·duh·lai·tuhs) that leads to the fusion of the spine. It tries to close your chest cavity over time. Some days his eyes turn red and he loses his vision. Inflammation in his neck, spine, and hips causes immense pain throughout his body. To watch him move is to grimace in sympathy. And yet he’s everywhere all the time, relying on his old beat-up cane. He’s the closest we have to a modern-day Dr. King – a preacher, prophet, and prolific organizer. He started the Moral Monday movement in North Carolina in 2013 and this past June organized the Poor Peoples Campaign in Washington, DC. Holding up his cane, he says, “This has marched in marches, it’s been in the jailhouse, the White House, and Senate confirmation hearings.” And despite his body’s crushing pain, for the rest of his life he’s committed to continue to the cause of low wage people – Black, brown, and white – housing, immigration reform, Christian nationalism, and LGBTQ rights. He also always talks about health care access, grateful for his, and insists the United States needs a “heart transplant.” How does he keep going? He said, “If the pain says I can’t, even then I’m going to find a way to do something to be with those in this country who every day have inflicted upon them the restrictions of a democracy that’s full of the arthritis of inequality.” How can he do that? He said, “I was taught in my faith tradition that you don’t live life and rust out. You wear out. You fight on. You walk by faith and not by sight. You take the life you’re handed and make a difference with the life you have.” What does it say that Jesus didn’t delay? It says that the time for freedom for the oppressed is not tomorrow. The only day for liberation is today. No more excuses. Alice Farnam, William Barber, and the woman bent over for 18 years didn’t wait for better days. Whether we feel limited by pain in our body or a spirit of fear or a spirit of guilt or a spirit that says we lack worth, what are you waiting for? There is so much you can do. Why wait to act even one more day?  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org August 14, 2022 “Causing Division” Luke 12: 49-56 – Common English Bible “I came to cast fire upon the earth. How I wish that it was already ablaze! 50 I have a baptism I must experience. How I am distressed until it’s completed! 51 Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, I have come instead to bring division. 52 From now on, a household of five will be divided—three against two and two against three. 53 Father will square off against son and son against father; mother against daughter and daughter against mother; and mother-in-law against daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.” 54 Jesus also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud forming in the west, you immediately say, ‘It’s going to rain.’ And indeed it does. 55 And when a south wind blows, you say, ‘A heat wave is coming.’ And it does. 56 Hypocrites! You know how to interpret conditions on earth and in the sky. How is it that you don’t know how to interpret the present time? It was five years ago that Rev. Traci Blackmon was invited to preach a Friday evening service at St. Paul’s Memorial Church. Rev. Traci Blackmon is a name you should know. She is the United Church of Christ Associate General Minister and a frequently sought-after speaker, especially about racial justice, which is why she was in Charlottesville that night. As she stood in front of these worshipers gathered from around the country, she joked it was the first time she had preached to a standing-room only crowd on a Friday night in church. They were there to counter a rally the next day by newly emboldened neo-confederates, neo-nazis, KKK supporters, and other white nationalists. A rally was called to “Unite the Right.” In response, a group of clergy gathered to offer spiritual support to counter-protesters and offer a clear message that Unite the Right did not speak for all Christians. Those who showed up believed that Christians and other people of faith can’t just stand around watching it happen. Rev. Blackmon encouraged the congregation. “When violence and hatred are flourishing, it is necessary for love to show up. When hatred is all around, when violence is the language of the day, when laws lack compassion and churches lose their way, then we who believe in freedom, who believe in God… we must question: Where have all the prophets gone? Here I am. A 54-year-old Black woman, coming back because the Klan is rising.” While she was preaching, outside the church windows, there were flickering lights in the distance. They were not streetlights, however, but tiki torches held aloft by white supremacists. When Rev. Blackmon finished her sermon, anxious volunteers told her about a teeming mob, about 300 strong, many in matching white polo shirts. They had begun by walking menacingly around a statue of Robert E. Lee screaming racist and anti-Semitic slogans but they were on the move and now, from across the street, they could now be seen cresting the hill and marching toward them. It wasn’t clear if they were coming to confront worshipers but inside the church they could hear chants like “you will not replace us.” Worshipers prayed, they sang hymns to drown them out, but the fear was real. Organizers told no one to leave and locked the church doors. Except one white supremacist had already come in and was live-streaming to his followers. After several hours of being confined inside the church, worshipers were escorted out the back to avoid attracting attention. Rev. Blackmon wasn’t having that. She and Dr. Cornel West resolved they would leave through the front but when they opened the door, she said, “All I could see, as far as I could see, were flames and people chanting ‘blood and soil’ and ‘Jews will not replace us’ and I decided this one time I might go out the back door.” Later that night, outside the church, Rev. Blackmon was interviewed live on MSNBC by Joy Reid. Right in the middle of the interview, someone pulled on Rev. Blackmon’s arm and all of a sudden, she was gone. Joy Reid was left wondering out loud on TV what was going on. “We don’t know what just happened.” Later she reported that Rev. Blackmon was whisked away for her safety. And she was OK. But how could she be OK? How can anyone be OK? And I think that’s the message Jesus is sending with his confounding words from today’s text from the Gospel of Luke. “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, I have come instead to bring division.” At first glance, this text just doesn’t make sense. It feels completely out of place with the one we call the Prince of Peace. Just last week, just a few verses earlier in chapter 12, Jesus told his listeners “do not be afraid, don’t worry.” He called them his “little flock” and spoke of lilies and ravens and treasures in heaven. We think of Jesus saying, “bring the little children to me, do not hinder them, for to them belongs the Kingdom of God.” Over and over, those are the words we hold on to. Instead, in this passage he spoke these strange and offensive words: “from now on, a household will be divided – three against two.” Father against son, daughter against mother, divisions among in-laws. What did he mean? I think a key question we must ask is: Did he mean to deliberately divide people or is division a result of his message? There have been clues along the way. At the very beginning of his ministry, Jesus read from the scroll of Isaiah that he had been anointed by God to bring good news to the poor, freedom to the prisoner, liberation for the captive. We must realize that not everyone will hear that as good news. In fact, many will resist. Then Jesus proclaimed, “today in your hearing, this scripture has been fulfilled.” How’d that go over? At first, they were proud, boasting among themselves about Joseph’s son. Everyone exclaimed what a nice young man. But he should have quit while he was ahead. By the time he had finished talking, the hometown crowd was so enraged they ran him out of town with the intention of throwing him off a cliff. While they were arguing among themselves, Jesus passed right through the middle of them and off on his way. Mary knew the child she was carrying in her womb would upset the world. The hungry filled with good things isn’t going to please the rich walking away empty-handed. The powerful brought down from their thrones while the humble are lifted high are not going to sit around enjoying a new view of the world. They’re going to fight back. As you know, Jesus was often provocative, getting under the skin especially of the ones tasked with purity and making sure every “i” is dotted and every “t” is crossed. You don’t call religious people “hypocrites and broods of vipers” and expect them to respond by saying, “thank you!” Did Jesus come to cause division? Was that his intention? Or is it true that following Jesus can’t help but cause division? I’ll admit I would prefer if his message had been “I’ve come to bring unity among divided people.” That would make much more sense. That’s what we need right now. But you can’t bring unity without addressing that which divides us. Otherwise all we have succeeded in doing is keeping things as they are. For the comfortable, that’s not so bad. For those at the top, that’s terrific. But for Christians, followers of Jesus who came on behalf of people at the bottom, for anyone excluded, hated, or reviled, that is unacceptable. It’s not OK. Charlottesville was religious extremism on clear display – easy for anyone to denounce. Well, it should have been easy… While Charlottesville may have been five years ago, the ideology behind it is just as real and gaining power every day. It is fueled by an imposter masquerading as Christianity. This imposter is draped in innocent language about the founding of the United States as a Christian nation, the insistence that we are a nation not characterized by the separation of church and state but a nation in which the two are the same, seeking the enforcement of “biblical” laws by Christian judges, and descriptions of “real Americans.” There may be disagreement about some of these ideas, but let’s be clear it is not Christianity. It is Christian nationalism and it is growing in popularity and influence among much of white Christianity. You might hear it called religious liberty but its intent is Christian privilege. And when that privilege is questioned, cries of persecution. Charlottesville’s “You will not replace us” hides behind such slogans as “Take America Back for God.” It glorifies depictions of a “Warrior Christ.” And although it appears innocuous, it inspires violence – intimidation, harassment, and murder – such as
Christian nationalism creates a false idol of power. Christianity doesn’t need power. Its power is love. Christianity is a gospel of love – love for God and love from God, love for our neighbor – every neighbor, and even love for enemies. But love is never OK with suffering for some and victory for others. That is an absolute abuse of power. So therefore, Jesus asks, “Do you think I came to smooth things over and make everything nice? Not so. I’ve come to disrupt and confront!” That’s Eugene Peterson’s insightful translation of our passage today in The Message. Who wouldn’t prefer Jesus to smooth things over and make everything nice!? Instead, Jesus’s words are confounding and disturbing. They should cause us to pause, to ponder the meaning and implications. And it makes me ask: Is it divisive to call out Christian nationalism? But this distortion of Christianity is causing great harm and not only to people. It is a huge factor behind young Americans fleeing the church. It repulses young and old alike who will not stand for
Personally, if the alternative was that or nothing, I’d take nothing. I’d be the first one out the door of the church. I’d simply follow Jesus on my own. Perhaps find two or three to gather in his name. Thank God there are churches like this and Christians like you – not that we don’t have our own issues. We can’t forget to remove the log from our own eye before pointing out the splinter in our neighbor’s. On a steamy August evening in Virginia, Rev. Blackmon encouraged the congregation. We who believe in freedom, who believe in God, “when violence and hatred are flourishing, it is necessary for love to show up.” The emphasis is on WE. I can only conclude that following Jesus will cause division because it clarifies our values and makes us ask: With whom do you stand? It doesn’t require a mean spirit but it does require a choice and it’s not always easy. But we will never regret choosing love over power. Therefore, in the words of Sister Ruth Fox: May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts. May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace. May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy. And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org August 7, 2022 “Stuff and More Stuff” Luke 12: 32-34 – Common English Bible Don’t be afraid, little flock, because God delights in giving you the kingdom. 33 Sell your possessions and give to those in need. Make for yourselves wallets that don’t wear out—a treasure in heaven that never runs out. No thief comes near there, and no moth destroys. 34 Where your treasure is, there your heart will be too. Listen to this story by Byrd Baylor: If you could see us sitting here at our old, beat-up, scratched-up, messed-up kitchen table, you’d know we aren’t rich. My father tries to tell us we are, but can’t he see my worn-out shoes? Or that my little brother’s pants are just patches sewn together? “You can’t fool me,” I say to him. “We’re poor. Would rich people sit at a table like this?” My mother pats the table and agrees with my father. “We’re rich because we sit here every day.” Now understand, I like this table just fine. My parents made it themselves out of lumber someone else threw away. They even had a celebration when they finished it. All I’m saying is, you can tell that we didn’t pay anything for it. You can tell that it didn’t come from a furniture store. It’s not a table where rich people would sit. Sometimes I think I’m the only sensible one in my whole family. So, I called a family meeting and told them the subject is money and that my parents don’t have enough of it. I tell my parents they should both get better jobs so we could buy some nicer things. And add, “I hate to bring this up, but it would really help if both of you had a little more ambition.” My father just smiles and asks, “How many people are as lucky as we are?” My parents have some strange ideas about working. They think the only jobs worth having are outdoors. They want cliffs or canyons or desert or mountains around them wherever they work. They want a good view of the sky. And they want to always work together. Their favorite thing to do is to pan for gold. They pile us in the back of a beat-up old truck and head for rocky desert hills or some narrow mountain gully where all the roads are eventually just coyote trails. They love to walk the wide arroyos where little flecks of gold are found. After a month or two out there, they always find a little bit of gold to sell, but it’s never made us rich. And as far as I can see, it’s just an excuse to camp in some beautiful wild place again. They also don’t mind planting fields of sweet corn or alfalfa. They like picking chilies and squash and tomatoes. They’ll put up strong fences or train wild young horses. But I’ve called this family meeting to say, “You could make more money working in a building somewhere in town.” “But,” he says, “our number one rule is that we have to see the sky.” “You could look through a window.” But they won’t even think about it. Do you see what I mean about being the only sensible one in this family? My mother hands my brother and I a pencil and some yellow paper. “OK,” she said, “let’s add up our assets. You be the bookkeeper.” We start with $20,000. That’s how much my father says it’s worth to him to work outdoors, where he can see sky all day and feel the wind and smell rain coming an hour before it’s really raining. He says it’s worth that much because, if he feels like singing, he can sing out loud and no one will mind. I have just written $20,000 when my mother adds, “You better make that $30,000 because it’s worth at least another $10,000 to hear coyotes howling back in the hills.” So, I write down $30,000. Then she remembers that they like to see long distances and faraway mountains that change color about 10 times a day. “That’s worth around $5,000 to me,” she says. I scratch out what I had written and put down $35,000. My father thinks of something else. “When a cactus blooms, you should be there to watch it because it might be a color you never see again.” He asks my brother, “How much would you say that color is worth?” “50 cents?” But they decide it’s worth another $5,000. So now I write $40,000 on the yellow pad. My father loves to make bird sounds. He can copy any bird, but he’s best at white-winged doves and ravens and red-tailed hawks and quail. He’s good at eagles too, and great horned owls. So, of course, he tells me to write down another $10,000 for having both day and night birds around us. I cross out what I had. The total is now $50,000. My mother asks me how much I’m worth to them. I suggest they could add another $10,000 to the list of assets. But my father said, “Don’t underestimate yourself. Remember how good you are at making lists for us.” He’s right. I am very good at making lists. Someone in this family has to. They end up deciding I’m worth about a million dollars. I tell them that’s a little high, but I smile and write it down anyway. Naturally I have to add another million for my brother, though at 7 years old, he doesn’t do much yet to add to our bottom line. And then I add one million each for my parents. So, I scratch out all the previous numbers and write 4 million, $50,000. My brother says we should add $7 for all the nights we get to sleep outside under the stars. We all agree that’s really worth more like $5,000. Then I decide I want to add $5,000 for the pleasure of wandering around in open country alone, free as a lizard, not following trails, not having a plan, just turning whatever way the wind blows me. Now my yellow pad says we have 4 million, $60,000. And we haven’t even started counting actual cash. But by then I realize the cash part doesn’t really matter. And I suggest it shouldn’t be included on our list of riches. So, I declare the meeting is over. The rest of them go outside to see the sliver of a new moon while I sit at our beautiful, stunning, hand-carved, homemade kitchen table. I think, no one can ever be rich enough to afford something as nice as this. This wonderful story is entitled The Table Where Rich People Sit. It’s so beautiful to watch the transformation of this girl – a literal revolution of her values, very much in the upside-down spirit of the gospel. A good illustration of Jesus’ teaching. Today’s reading is in the middle of a long section about money and possessions, about worry and greed. Did you know that if you removed all of Jesus’ references to money and economic issues, one third of the gospel would disappear? Jesus does not have an obsession with sex and sexuality, as many Christians would have you believe. But he does care a great deal about economic issues that affect our communities and our personal relationships with money – both of which are spiritual issues at heart. Last week you heard the gospel reading about a guy who told Jesus to tell his brother to divide their inheritance. Jesus asked, “Who am I to be your referee?” And so, he told a parable. A man had a big harvest and decided to tear down his barns and build bigger storage bins. He felt good about himself – now I can eat, drink, and enjoy myself. Take it easy. But, what we might think of as a very sensible idea, Jesus described as hoarding things for one self. Rather, he said, be rich toward God. And before we could argue the merits of financial planning, he continued, saying, “Therefore, I say to you, don’t worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. 23 There is more to life than food and more to the body than clothing. 24 Consider the ravens: they neither plant nor harvest, they have no silo or barn, yet God feeds them. You are worth so much more than birds!” To which I say, “Yes, thank you Jesus. However, what about…” But he doesn’t bother to listen and just keeps going. 25 Who among you by worrying can add a single moment to your life? 26 If you can’t do such a small thing, why worry about the rest? Well, yes that’s certainly true, but wait a minute Jesus. Listen. But he doesn’t. 27 Notice how the lilies grow. They don’t wear themselves out with work, and they don’t spin cloth. But I say to you that even Solomon in all his splendor wasn’t dressed like one of these. 28 If God dresses grass in the field so beautifully, even though it’s alive today and tomorrow it’s thrown into the furnace, how much more will God do for you, you people of weak faith! But Jesus, this isn’t about weak faith. This is about being sensible. I have legitimate concerns. And yet, he just keeps talking. 29 Don’t chase after what you will eat and what you will drink. Stop worrying. 30 All the nations of the world long for these things. Your Divine Parent knows that you need them. 31 Instead, desire God’s kingdom and these things will be given to you as well. That’s the introduction to today’s reading. It’s as if he knew my discomfort and anticipated my questions. He said: 32 “Don’t be afraid, little flock, because God delights in giving you the kingdom. Don’t be afraid. OK. But then he said the most terrifying thing of all: 33 Sell your possessions and give to those in need. Make for yourselves wallets that don’t wear out—a treasure in heaven that never runs out. Where no thief comes and no moth destroys. Because 34 Where your treasure is, there your heart will be too. Jesus told the crowd, consider the ravens. Notice the lilies. He points to the grass in the field and exhorts his followers not to chase after what we will eat or what we will we drink, but instead, desire the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you. But just when I think all the talk of ravens and lilies is lovely but silly, or at least impractical, there’s one more verse I want to add. It comes 14 verses later. Jesus said, “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be expected.” Sit with that for a few seconds. Jesus isn’t speaking spiritual-eze. “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be expected.” It’s not a judgment. It’s not “you bad people…” It’s not a even demand. It’s simply a statement, but I think even more so, it’s an invitation. His guide for living faithfully with money – the practical side of lilies and ravens and Solomon in all his splendor. Notably, it also isn’t about heaven. Jesus is talking about our real communities right here on earth and our personal relationship with money. Put another way, you could say he’s talking about our stuff. Because where your stuff is, there your heart is too. A few years ago, Art and I did the Marie Kondo thing. In her book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, people are supposed to pick up every possession and ask, does this bring me joy? If it doesn’t, then donate it or throw it out. He was much better at it than I. When he wasn’t looking, I hid some things in a drawer, but not surprisingly, when we went through all our possessions in preparation for moving here, I didn’t want anything I had hidden away in a drawer. I just wanted to keep it. Why did I want to keep it? Instead, Jesus said, desire the kingdom of God – a world that is loving toward others as well as toward ourselves – and we’ll find we have everything we really need. Think about all our stuff, stuff that’s stuffed into corners and down in basements and up in attics and in all those storage locker places along the freeway so we don’t have to look at how much stuff we have… What if all our stuff has nothing to do with our heart? What if our stuff is just about… having stuff? And more stuff to go with it. What if all that stuff was really about fear, like the fear of missing out? And if we really thought about it, wouldn’t we be better off selling it and giving away the proceeds? To help people who actually need stuff? Once again, Jesus has this habit of talking about our real communities right here on earth and our personal relationship with money. And before we say, but what about… just imagine that it’s true, because… 25 Who among you by worrying can add a single moment to your life? 26 If you can’t do such a small thing, why worry about the rest? Byrd Baylor, The Table Where Rich People Sit, Aladin Paperbacks, 1998  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org July 24, 2022 “How Much More” Luke 10: 38-42 – Common English Bible One day he was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said, “Master, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.” 2-4 So he said, “When you pray, say, Father, Reveal who you are. Set the world right. Keep us alive with three square meals. Keep us forgiven with you and forgiving others. Keep us safe from ourselves and the Devil.” 5-6 Then he said, “Imagine what would happen if you went to a friend in the middle of the night and said, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread. An old friend traveling through just showed up, and I don’t have a thing on hand.’ 7 “The friend answers from his bed, ‘Don’t bother me. The door’s locked; my children are all down for the night; I can’t get up to give you anything.’ 8 “But let me tell you, even if he won’t get up because he’s a friend, if you stand your ground, knocking and waking all the neighbors, he’ll finally get up and get you whatever you need. 9 “Here’s what I’m saying: Ask and you’ll get; Seek and you’ll find; Knock and the door will open. 10-13 “Don’t bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need. This is not a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we’re in. If your little boy asks for a serving of fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? If your little girl asks for an egg, do you trick her with a spider? As bad as you are, you wouldn’t think of such a thing—you’re at least decent to your own children. And don’t you think the Father who conceived you in love will give the Holy Spirit when you ask him?” Have you ever taken a road trip with a child who asks, all too often, “are we there yet?” Or, “how much longer?” Eyes rolling, you reply, “five minutes less than the last time you asked, dear.” Annoying, right? An hour later, “my dear child” might morph into “My dear God, how much more of this can I take?” That is, without losing patience, without losing your temper, without losing your mind. Well, this question comes up for me from that odd couple of verses at the end of the reading: “Which of you is going to give your child a snake if they ask for a fish? Which of you is going to give your child a scorpion if they ask for an egg?” Who would do that? Well, not even someone who has lost their patience, temper, and mind! The point being made is that even someone who has lost it will do the right thing. Or as the text says, “even people who are evil know how to give good gifts to their children, so how much more will our divine parent do for those who ask?” But first, tragically, we have to acknowledge that this is not always true and I don’t want to dismiss the experience of children whose parents were or are not loving or kind. But, Jesus promises, our divine parent is. As you heard, Luke places these verses in a passage that teaches the disciples what we know as the Lord’s Prayer. But compared to what we’re used to praying in church, it’s pretty bare bones. Just four requests, or as some say, four demands: 1)Bring in your kingdom 2)Give us bread 3)Forgive us 4)Save us from temptation Matthew and Luke both have these four requests but there are a couple of minor differences.
As you heard the text being read, you may have thought to yourself, wait something is missing. But neither Matthew or Luke say “for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.” That’s a later addition in the evolving liturgy of the church. But as many of you know, Catholics don’t add that line to the Our Father either. Any number of times I’ve visited a Catholic mass and been the lone Protestant in an echoing cathedral “For thine is the…” Sorry! Perhaps it’s happened to you too. Mark doesn’t include the Lord’s Prayer at all. Mark is the first of the gospels in our Bible written. Matthew and Luke both had access to Mark and used it extensively for their gospels, which is why there is so much similarity between them – similar but often in different order with different details for different audiences making different points. Both include the parable from today and those odd verses about eggs and scorpions, though Matthew uses bread and stones. But in Matthew, these have nothing to do with the Lord’s Prayer. C’mon guys. Get your stories straight! Again, Mark doesn’t include the Lord’s Prayer and Matthew and Luke didn’t have access to each other’s work, so how could their prayer be so remarkably similar? And this isn’t the only time they share something in common that wasn’t in Mark. Scholars maintain there was another gospel that was lost they call Q, for the word Quelle in German meaning source. Perhaps this is all more than you want to know, but maybe it will help you answer a trivia question. And even better, understand a little more of the complexity of this Bible we treasure. Jesus went on to a strange parable about a neighbor who is pestered for food in the middle of the night. If you’re wondering what it’s about: Imagine an unexpected guest shows up at your house at midnight. What do you do? At the time, culturally there would be no question that you would invite the guest inside your home and offer them something to eat and drink. It’s not something you’d even have to think about. That’s just what you do – no matter how inconvenient. But what if you have no food to give them? You don’t say sorry. You go next door to ask your neighbor, who would also be culturally obligated to respond. No questions asked. Except this neighbor did. He complained. We’re in bed. Leave us alone. But the guy who has a guest at his home ready to eat will not give up because it’s his obligation. To not respond would bring shame upon both their households. And so, if the reluctant neighbor is willing to get up and give as you ask, then how much more does our divine parent want to give those who ask. Therefore, ask, and like the neighbor be as persistent as necessary. You will receive. Seek, don’t take no for an answer, and you will find. Knock, and keep knocking, until the door is opened for you. Does that help the parable make sense? It’s a confusing one for sure. But wait. Have you always received when you’ve asked? It sure doesn’t always feel that way. Have you always found when you have been seeking? Has the door always opened when you’ve knocked? An honest person can only answer no. In fact, sometimes there have been so many disappointments, we may stop asking, not wanting to be let down. Or blame ourselves. But imagine a relationship in which we have stopped asking anything of a friend or spouse; a relationship where we have stopped trusting or even communicating all together. A relationship in which instead we ask, “How much more.” How much more of this can I take? Perhaps because it’s all give, give, give – all they ever want from me is what I can give them. Or maybe it’s betrayals. They promised never to do it again, six times ago. You’ve probably got stories of siblings or friends or former spouses about whom you’ve asked, “how much more of this…” Or a job, a volunteer organization, a church. Or God. I want to ask, how much more of this pandemic can we take? Are we there yet? I ask of the division in our country, how much more of this can we take. I want to ask of homophobia and xenophobia and domestic terrorism – how much more must we endure. Or suffer chronic pain and hurt feelings and lost loved ones. What more can we survive? But how much more than all of that does our divine parent want to give. Look at that neighbor, or that parent, or that friend. And how much more does God want for you? Here’s the interpretative question, the key question. Is this about how much more God will do for you? Or is this about how much more God loves you, hopes for you, will never give up on you? Or that God won’t ever stop asking, God will persist in seeking you, God will keep knocking until you answer. When we make this text about how much God does or doesn’t do for us, we have to admit that sometimes I’ve asked and not received. Isn’t that honest? I’ve sought and not found. Isn’t that painful? I’ve knocked and the door has remained shut. If this prayer and parable and odd saying about scorpions and eggs are about getting what we ask for, we may be disappointed. But know this: Whenever we say, “How much more can I take” of hurt and pain and loss, God’s response is how much more do I love you than that.[1] More than even all of that. Whenever we say, “How much more can I take” of feeling abandoned, alone, and rejected, God responds, whatever you are feeling, I love you more than even that. Whenever we say, “How much more can I take” of disillusionment and disappointment, God will say, “How much more than that do I love you.” Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be your name Your kingdom come, your will be done, On earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily bread Forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors And lead us now into temptation But deliver us from evil (For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever!) When Jesus taught his disciples to pray, it was not to a grand unknowable almighty being that we cannot possibly understand, but to something, someone as easily understood, though certainly not uncomplicated, as a parent. In fact, father is still too formal. Jesus prayed to Abba, a meaning closer to daddy than a strict authoritarian figure we may imagine. All to say, how much more do I love you than that. [1] Karoline Lewis, workingpreacher.org  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org July 17, 2022 “Marsha and Sylvia” Luke 10: 38-42 – Common English Bible After While Jesus and his disciples were traveling, Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him as a guest. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his message. 40 By contrast, Martha was preoccupied with getting everything ready for their meal. So Martha came to him and said, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to prepare the table all by myself? Tell her to help me.” 41 The Lord answered, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things. 42 One thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the better part. It won’t be taken away from her.” Sermons about Mary and Martha often contrast the spiritual life – for example, some people are doers and some people are “be-ers.” But this text isn’t about how some people are one thing and some people are another. It says, “Martha, you’re too focused on other things. Look at your sister. She chose the better thing.” Theologian Dr. Karoline Lewis has had it with sermons that compare and contrast Mary and Martha. She said, it creates a competition between women, or even worse, rivalry between sisters. In very strong words, she said, preachers, more often than not men, “elevate and exacerbate our insecurities, part of the way our society fosters and depends on the socialization of women toward competition, judgment, and expectation. It’s a way to control women.”[1] Dr. Lewis laments that inevitably, women who identify as Marthas, and churches are full of and often completely dependent on Marthas, feel chastised. “Martha, you’re too focused on other things. Look at your sister. She chose the better thing.” Could that really be the point Jesus intended? It might help to recognize that the story of Mary and Martha is paired with the parable of the Good Samaritan, which immediately precedes. Jesus praises the unlikely Samaritan. And the very next thing Jesus does is praise Mary, an unlikely disciple. Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus listening is clearly the posture of a disciple. As the Jesus Seminar folks point out, “Both the Samaritan and Mary step out of conventional roles in Luke’s gospel” and are praised.[2] And yet, so much of the challenge of this story still rests on the word “better.” One of them chose the “better thing.” Or, Mary made the “right choice.” She chose the “good part.” But the intention certainly cannot be to pit one against the other because service and learning are both hallmarks of following Jesus. Imagine removing all references to hospitality and eating together from the Gospels. Who’s going to feed everyone? Ultimately, the image left in our minds from this story shouldn’t be Martha feeling dejected, though she’s still clearly still frustrated with her sister. The image we should hold on to is that of a female disciple, sitting at the feet of Jesus. It is to imagine Jesus upholding the Samaritan as an unlikely hero and Mary as an unconventional disciple. Jesus is always expanding previously accepted boundaries, opening wider our understanding of the Kingdom of God which is both here and not yet. Here and not yet. Just like the LGBTQ+ Pride we celebrate this weekend. Fernando López is the executive director of San Diego Pride and on Thursday he wrote this: “Cresting over the horizon is the brilliant liberation of our dreams. But looming are growing shadows of hate. It is why we have Pride. We don’t have Pride because we are free. We have Pride because we are not. Our community will not let fear, hate, and intimidation win. We will not shrink ourselves or return to the closets and prisons of our past. He added, “this Pride, we will unshackle our hearts and bodies from anyone’s expectations but our own. We will rise unapologetically to indulge in being radically only and absolutely who we know we truly are. I invite you to bravely discard fear. Seize hope. Be free.” 1969 was the year of the Stonewall Riot. What a different world we live in and yet, while so much has changed, so much has not, exemplified in part by two brave individuals at the Stonewall Inn that night in June, Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera. Marsha was born in 1945 and named Malcolm. She began wearing dresses at age 5, but stopped after being teased. After graduating from high school, Marsha moved to New York City with a bag of clothes and $15. She landed in Greenwich Village which was one of the most tolerant places for people like her, but it didn’t protect her and others from constant harassment, including by the police. The police were responsible for enforcing horrible laws, including one that required individuals to wear at least three items of clothing that matched your gender. Three. Not two. And how would that be enforced without violating the most personal parts of the body? That indignity might have been small, however, compared to the fact that no one would hire someone like Marsha. She was frequently homeless and like many others at the time, dependent on prostitution to survive. In the face of all this, Marsha was generous, jubilant, and open to any and every one. And she was religious. She said she loved Jesus because “he is the only man I can really trust. He listens to all my problems and has never laughed at me.” Marsha took in anyone in need, which is how she met Sylvia Rivera. Sylvia’s father abandoned her at birth. Her mother committed suicide when Sylvia was three. She then went to live with her grandmother, but Sylvia was beaten every time she was caught trying on her grandmother’s clothing or makeup. At age 11 she ran away and became a prostitute. That’s when she met Marsha on the street. Marsha took in young people and offered the kind of stability and love of a home they had never experienced. Marsha and Sylvia were together at the Stonewall Inn that night when police raided the bar at 1:20 am, the second time that week alone. Interesting side note: bars that served queer people couldn’t get liquor licenses, so most of the gay bars in New York City were run as private clubs by the mob. It was tremendously profitable for them. That night, for whatever reason, the patrons had had enough of the constant harassment. They fought back. Patrons had never fought back before. But this time, when police hit a Black woman wearing pants named Storme, she hit back. They tried three times to shove her into a police car but she kept fighting her way out. Someone then yelled to turn over the car. Previously docile patrons who patiently got into police paddy wagons to go to jail instead began taunting the police, throwing coins and then beer cans. This caught officers off guard. Things escalated. Patrons began scooping cobblestones out of the street and throwing them at police who retreated inside the bar. Someone pulled a parking meter out of the ground and used it as a battering ram to force the door open. Trash cans were set on fire. Someone threw lighter fluid and a match into the bar through broken windows. It was a riot. From inside, Inspector Pine was within seconds of ordering his officers to fire their guns, but backup finally arrived and began to haul rioters away. But not like before. Not everyone would go quietly. Tensions remained high, added to by a growing number of people from the neighborhood and other bars who gathered around, unaware that they were witnessing the birth of the modern LGBTQ+ liberation movement. However, Stonewall wasn’t the first time queer people fought back. There was the “Cooper’s Do-nuts Riot” in Los Angeles in 1959. The “Compton’s Cafeteria Riot” in San Francisco in 1966. Both riots involved the same kind of crowd that gathered at the Stonewall Inn. Racially mixed, mostly poor, women who dressed in shirts and trousers, men who called themselves drag queens, and a collection of people who weren’t welcome anywhere else. There was one other event that preceded Stonewall. A “Sip-In” at Julius’ in New York City. A group of well-dressed men visited bars, told bartenders they were gay, and ordered drinks to try to challenge the law against serving homosexuals. Already raided that week, the bartender at Julius’ denied them service which ultimately led to a court case that overturned the law. And yet, three years later, patrons like Marsha and Sylvia at the Stonewall Inn were still being harassed and arrested. By the way, Stonewall wasn’t a one-night event. Skirmishes continued throughout the weekend and into a sixth day. At “gay liberation” protests that followed in the days and years after, people like Marsha and Sylvia were pushed off stage. Literally. More “respectable, dignified,” white men became the face of gay liberation. I understand it and I hate that I understand it. Well, things came to a head at the Pride March in 1973 when Sylvia was repeatedly blocked from speaking. When she finally grabbed the microphone, she shouted, “if it wasn’t for the drag queens, there would be no gay liberation movement. We’re the front-liners.” She was booed and jeered and took the rejection hard. Later that day she attempted suicide. Marsha found her and saved her life. They founded an organization called STAR: Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries but eventually Sylvia gave up her activism and Marsha focused on saving the never-ending line of young people escaping the brutality of their homes for freedom in New York City and later caring for people with AIDS. It occurs to me that the same competition that pits Mary and Martha against each other could characterize Stonewell and the modern Pride movements. Which is better? Is one better? Serving or listening. The more “dignified” or the more colorful. Those trying to prove we’re all the same or those just trying to live in harmony with their identity. Watch as the governors and legislatures in places like Florida and Texas intensify their harassment and persecution of transgender people, fostering judgment and competition in the LGBTQ community, trying to elevate and exacerbate our insecurities. The religious right sees this as a way to divide our allies and the LGBTQ community – to control us and make us compete against each other. Don’t fall for the trap. Anyone who says “they’re not like me” or “why can’t they tone it down” or make comments on their looks is betraying everything we’ve been fighting for. Martha should be Martha. And Mary should be Mary. The only thing better about either one is that they better be themselves. And you should be you. And I’ll be me. But until everyone can be the radically and absolutely only person God created us to be, none of us will ever be free. This Pride unshackle your hearts so we can rise together unapologetically. A final word. The officer who led the police into the Stonewall Inn that night, Inspector Pine, formally apologized for his role, 15 years before the police department gave an official apology. He understood the power of redemption and the possibility of transformation when he said, “if what I did helped gay people, then I’m glad.” But we can never forget, nothing would have happened that night if not for the beautiful people God created like Marsha and Sylvia. [1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/no-comparison [2] The Five Gospels: What Did Jesus Really Say, 1993, p 325  Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org July 10, 2022 “Peace Upon Every House” Luke 10: 1-11 After these things, Jesus commissioned seventy-two others and sent them on ahead in pairs to every city and place he was about to go. 2 He said to them, “The harvest is bigger than you can imagine, but there are few workers. Therefore, plead with the Lord of the harvest to send out workers for his harvest. 3 Go! Be warned, though, that I’m sending you out as lambs among wolves. 4 Carry no wallet, no bag, and no sandals. Don’t even greet anyone along the way. 5 Whenever you enter a house, first say, ‘May peace be on this house.’ 6 If anyone there shares God’s peace, then your peace will rest on that person. If not, your blessing will return to you. 7 Remain in this house, eating and drinking whatever they set before you, for workers deserve their pay. Don’t move from house to house. 8 Whenever you enter a city and its people welcome you, eat what they set before you. 9 Heal the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘God’s kingdom has come upon you.’ 10 Whenever you enter a city and the people don’t welcome you, go out into the streets and say, 11 ‘As a complaint against you, we brush off the dust of your city that has collected on our feet. But know this: God’s kingdom has come to you.’! There’s so much going on in this text that it’s not easy to wrap our arms all the way around it.
There’s a lot here to think about. Too much. But first, there’s one more verse the lectionary committee clearly intentionally left out that completes the paragraph: for the people who don’t welcome you, who don’t receive your peace, who refuse to offer hospitality to you who are a stranger in their midst – it will be a better day in Sodom than it will be for them. Verse 12: “I assure you that Sodom will be better off on Judgment day than that city.” They obviously left this sentence out for a reason. And on the one hand, I’m glad. Hearing the word Sodom and/or Gomorrah strikes fear in our hearts, especially for queer people. Add the word “judgment” and oh Lord, here it comes. Locate the nearest exit and run for your lives. But on the other hand, it’s a shame that verse 12 is not included in the lectionary because if it were, we would be challenged to deal with what the sin of Sodom really is. It’s the refusal to welcome the stranger or provide hospitality. Or, like it says very clearly in Ezekiel 16:49: 49 This is the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were proud, had plenty to eat and enjoyed peace and prosperity; but she didn’t help the poor and the needy.” The sin of Sodom. And so, if someone doesn’t welcome you, shake the dust off your feet and keep moving. Let them deal with the consequences of their frosty reception. And let it serve as a warning to you. Anyway, as I said at the beginning, there’s a lot going on in this text. We could talk more about hospitality. We could talk about discipleship and the wisdom of having a companion with whom to share your faith and good works. Or we could speak of why there is such urgency that you don’t even talk to anyone on the road. Or the apocalypse, that awkward reference to harvest… We could ask, why the number 72, and why is it 70 in some Bibles? We could talk about traveling light, leaving our baggage and even our cell phones behind, or risk taking and vulnerability – for example, eating whatever they put in front of you. Or we could talk about being the recipients of hospitality, not the givers of it. The awkward, upside-down power dynamic of needing help instead of giving it. What is it like to depend on the hospitality of others who may not offer it? But of all these possibilities, the issue I do want to talk about this morning is verses 5 and 6: Peace. Whenever you enter a house, say to them, “May peace be upon this house.” But wait. You don’t know these people. You don’t know what they think. You don’t know what they’ve done. Bless them anyway. But what if… they’re one of those people. You know, there’s a lot of “those kind of people” around today. Well, just like I would expect Jesus to say, bless them anyway. “Peace be upon their house.” However, and this is a quite unexpected however, if they don’t offer peace back in return, move on. That’s such an interesting twist. I can imagine Jesus saying, if they don’t return peace, try harder. Win them over with your charm and your wit. Don’t ever, ever, ever give up. But no, Jesus said, if they don’t offer peace in return, move on. And he adds, don’t worry. You won’t lose anything by offering peace and not having it returned because your peace will come back to you. We have nothing to lose by going around house to house proclaiming peace upon it. Nothing to lose except maybe mistrust and suspicion of our neighbors. We have so many misgivings about our neighbors and even members of our families that this doesn’t sound… possible. Among many essays on the topic, a recent article in the Washington Post had a very appropriate title: “Nothing feels safe: Americans are divided, anxious, and quick to panic.”[1] In it, Professor Thane Rosenbaum described, “There is a fundamental national insecurity right now.” And think about it. National insecurity:
There are days I feel absolutely helpless. That’s what I was feeling this week as I studied this gospel passage. Hopeless. And that’s when I thought, OK, in a time of national insecurity, what do we need? Well, one thing from the gospel today: Peace. What can we do? Commit to proclaiming peace upon every house. And it will bring inner peace. Peace among neighbors. And especially peace in our nation. No matter who they are, what they believe, or what they have done. Proclaim peace upon every house. But then there’s this peculiar statement from Jesus. He adds, and if the people to whom you offer peace don’t want it, won’t return it, move on. That seems so strange. Out of place. Odd even for Jesus. Amy Oden offers this: Notice, “Jesus does not instruct them to argue, convince, or threaten. Just shake the dust off your feet so you are not weighted down by rejection or paralyzed with trying to figure out what you’ve done wrong or could have done differently.”[2] That makes so much sense. Move on and use your energy on someone else. It’s not that you are giving up because there is someone waiting for, hoping for, desperate for a word of peace from you. Try, but if necessary, it’s OK. Move on and don’t make it about you. You’re not called to be people pleasers but bearers of God’s peace. And sometimes that means, shake off the dust. Not even as a judgment against someone else, let God do that, but as a way to stop judging yourself. There are more important things to do. There’s an Iranian/African American poet named Anis Mojgani who wrote a poem called Shake the Dust.[3] He said it’s for people on the margins – the ones who are easily overlooked, bullied, and beaten down; whose stories are mostly unaccounted for. It’s a poem like Jesus told the 72, meant to reassure the reader to find courage, to risk, and when necessary, shake off the dust. This is for the fat girls This is for the little brothers This is for the schoolyard wimps and the childhood bullies that tormented them Shake the dust This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them For the bus drivers who drive a million broken hymns For the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children For the nighttime schoolers And for the midnight bikers who are trying to fly Shake the dust This is for the two year olds Who cannot be understood because they speak half English and half God Shake the dust For those gym class wallflowers and the twelve year olds afraid of taking public showers For the kid who is always late to class because he forgets the combination to his locker For the girl who loves somebody else Shake the dust This is for the hard men who want love but know that it won't come For the ones who are forgotten The ones the amendments do not stand up for For the ones who are told speak only when you are spoken to And then are never spoken to Speak every time you stand so you do not forget yourself Do not let one moment go by that doesn't remind you That your heart, it beats 900 times every single day And that there are enough gallons of blood to make everyone of you oceans Do not settle for letting these waves that settle And for the dust to collect in your veins For the poetry teachers and for the people who go on vacation alone For the sweat that drips off of Mick Jaggers' singing lips And for the shaking skirt on Tina Turner's shaking hips For the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived This is for the tired and for the dreamers For those families that want to be like the Cleavers with perfectly made dinners And songs like Wally and the Beaver This is for the bigots, for the sexists, and for the killers And for the big house pin sentenced cats becoming redeemers And for the springtime that somehow seems to show up right after every single winter This is for everyone of you Shake the dust grab this world by its clothespins And shake it out again and again And jump on top and take it for a spin And when you hop off shake it again For this is yours, this is yours If you strip away all the extraneous words and metaphors Jesus used in this passage today, he made it super simple. All you need are the clothes on your back, the companionship of a friend, and the word of peace on your lips. Then come back and report the miracles God achieved through you and your friend, blessing your efforts. As verse 17 says, “The seventy-two returned joyously, saying, “Lord, even the demons submit themselves to us in your name.” Remember: You are bearers of God’s peace, not people pleasers. You and a friend can give it your best and give yourself permission to fail. It’s all OK. Because regardless, you have just helped the Kingdom of God come nearer than it was before. [1] https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2022/07/05/americans-shootings-panic/ [2] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-14-3/commentary-on-luke-101-11-16-20-4 [3] https://genius.com/artists/Anis-mojgani - shortened slightly |
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