Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] August 6, 2023 “Blessed Wrestling” Genesis 32: 22-29 – Common English Bible Jacob got up during the night, took his two wives, his two women servants, and his eleven sons, and crossed the Jabbok River’s shallow water. 23 He took them and everything that belonged to him, and he helped them cross the river. 24 But Jacob stayed apart by himself, and a man wrestled with him until dawn broke. 25 When the man saw that he couldn’t defeat Jacob, he grabbed Jacob’s thigh and tore a muscle in Jacob’s thigh as he wrestled with him. 26 The man said, “Let me go because the dawn is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I won’t let you go until you bless me.” 27 He said to Jacob, “What’s your name?” and he said, “Jacob.” 28 Then he said, “Your name won’t be Jacob any longer, but Israel,[a] because you struggled with God and with men and won.” 29 Jacob also asked and said, “Tell me your name.” But he said, “Why do you ask for my name?” and he blessed Jacob there This summer, we started with Abraham and Sarah who laughed at the idea that a 100-year man and a 90-year-old woman would have a child. That child was named Isaac. Isaac married Rebekah and after they also tried for many decades, she finally became pregnant and gave birth to twins named Jacob and Esau, but in a sign of what was to come, the twins put up a terrible battle inside Rebekah’s womb. And when they came down the birth canal, Jacob grabbed the heel of his twin and never stopped trying to get ahead of his older brother. He used every means of trickery and deception he could think of. Among the stories told, Jacob sold Esau some stew for the price of his birthright. Later, Jacob dressed himself with Esau’s clothes and covered his neck and arms with goatskin in order to trick their blind father Isaac, while he was laying on his deathbed, into giving Jacob power over the tribe. He was helped by his co-conspirator mother who cooked goat to taste like venison. You can read about this in sermons from earlier this summer. When Esau learned he had been tricked again, he was so enraged he vowed to kill his twin brother. Their mother sent her favorite son off to live with her brother, Laban. As Jacob ran for his life, the first night he was so exhausted that he slept with a rock for his pillow and dreamed of messengers, like God’s angelic office workers, going up and down from heaven. It’s where we get the familiar image of Jacob’s ladder. He finally made it to Uncle Laban’s and began working for him. And fell in love with Laban’s daughter Rachel. Uncle Laban promised Jacob that he could marry Rachel if he worked for free for 7 years. Jacob agreed and at the end of 7 years, he indeed married Laban’s daughter. Except that the morning after the marriage had already been consummated, he woke up and discovered he had just slept with Rachel’s sister, Leah. Uncle Laban had tricked Jacob into marrying his oldest daughter, but promised that Jacob could marry Rachel if he worked for free for another 7 years. The trickster met his match. Although, to add to this soap-opera, Jacob began a scheme to steal his uncle’s sheep. After 20 years of this dysfunctional family dynamic, Jacob felt God was calling him to reunite with his estranged twin brother. It was a frightful idea because, you’ll remember, their last interaction had involved Esau’s raging vow to kill Jacob. But the time had come. Jacob, however, didn’t tell Laban he was leaving. He just took off with his wives and his possessions, his 11 children and livestock, plus some of Laban’s possessions – those ill-gotten sheep. Rachel added to the fun by stealing her father’s household gods. When Laban discovered this, he raced after their caravan and demanded what had been stolen. He searched through everything but Rachel sat on the gods and declared it was her time of the month and she couldn’t be touched. Laban went home infuriated while Jacob’s caravan moved on toward an uncertain reunion. I wanted to remind us of this backstory because this is all part of that which Jacob is now wrestling. But this time, it wasn’t a dream on a rock pillow; it was so real, he walked away from it limping from a torn muscle. But before I talk more about this wrestling match, I want to finish the story of Jacob and Esau. Next week the lectionary skips on to one of Jacob’s sons, Joseph and his amazing technicolor dream coat. But it leaves us wondering, what happened with Jacob and Esau? So, for 20 years Jacob had imagined, fretted over, what might happen when and if he ever saw his twin brother again. God told him it was time. But Jacob didn’t want to just show up unannounced. He sent some messengers ahead to prepare his brother. They were to announce: “This is a message from your servant Jacob” (servant, not brother who tricked and deceived and stole from you). “I’ve lived as an immigrant with Laban, where I’ve stayed until now. I own cattle, donkeys, flocks, men and women servants. I’m sending this message to my master now to ask that he be kind.” His master? Jacob is laying it on pretty thick as he begs for mercy. The messengers returned and told him that “Esau is coming to meet you with four hundred men.” Hearing the report back, Jacob was terrified. He prayed to God, “you were the one who told me to do this, so you better protect me! Save me from my brother!” Jacob came up with a strategy. He divided everyone and everything into two camps. He thought, if Esau meets the first camp and attacks it, at least one camp will be left to escape.” Then he pulled aside 200 female goats and 20 male goats. He sent a servant ahead and told him, when Esau asks you who you are, tell him these are a gift from his servant Jacob. Also tell him, Jacob is right behind me. An hour later he sent a group of 200 lambs and 20 rams with the same message. They are a gift of Jacob. He’s right behind. An hour later he sent 30 nursing camels with their young. Same message. An hour later, 40 cows and ten bulls. And an hour later, 20 female donkeys and 10 male donkeys. Every time, the same message. Jacob thought he could pacify Esau and overwhelm him with one generous gift right after the other. Quite the contrast to all the things Jacob had stolen from Esau. That’s when Jacob went back across the river and spent the night alone. As it turned out not alone but a night spent wrestling with… was it angels or demons or God? Was he wrestling with his conscience or maybe his fears? All of the above? Think of all the baggage he was carrying. In the morning, he limped across the river and rejoined his family on the other side. His fears were confirmed when in the distance he could see Esau coming closer with his 400 men. Oh… crap. His plans hadn’t worked. Jacob frantically took his women servants and their children and put them together in a group out in front. And behind them, Leah and her children together. And behind them, Rachel with Joseph. And behind them, stood Jacob. He then came out from behind and approached Esau, bowing to the ground seven times. When Esau first spotted Jacob coming from behind these groups of women and children, the big hairy brute came running, not with fists ready to punch but arms wide open. Esau hadn’t sent an army of 400 to harm Jacob. He sent a great big welcoming party. Esau threw his arms around Jacob’s neck and kissed him and they wept. And then he asked to be introduced to all his sisters-in-law and nieces and nephews. And then he asked, “What’s with all the gifts you sent? I don’t need any of that. Take ‘em back!” It’s the consummate story of grace and generosity of spirit that reminds me of the story of the Prodigal Son. We may agree that the father had every right to demand a full accounting of what his wasteful son had done with his inheritance. The father had every right to be angry and skeptical that his son would have finally come to his senses. But he wasn’t angry and told his oldest son, who was angry, I’m just happy we’re reunited. I thought my son was dead but he is alive. Esau too could have recited a litany of all the ways Jacob had tricked him and deceived him but instead, he was grateful to be reunited with his twin. To finish their story, the brothers had so many livestock and family members, they were so rich and successful, that they had to part ways and live in different lands. There simply wasn’t enough room. But, for the first time in their lives, after all they had gone through, they were at peace with one another. That must have been quite the relief for their father Isaac, who was still alive. Remember he was supposed to have been on his death bed 20 years earlier when Isaac was tricked out of giving his blessing to Esau, his favorite son. Isaac didn’t die until he was 180 years old, at a time when his sons were at peace. I’m almost out of time before I’ve even talked about what Jacob’s wrestling in the night means. But first, there’s still a couple of things I want to make sure you understand. To be clear, Jacob and Israel are the same person. When you hear about the 12 Tribes of Israel, that’s the same thing as the 12 sons of Jacob. We’ll talk a little more about that next week. This night of wrestling marks the transition from Jacob, named for grabbing his brother’s heel as they were born, to Israel, which means one who strives, struggles, wrestles, with God. This is a very important story because it teaches that to be the people of God is not to be the puppets of a grand marionette but people who push and pull and argue with God and accuse God of being unfaithful and yet know that it is to God that we belong. Like any relationship, love is sometimes expressed in affection and sometimes in anger. But it still remains love. Genesis 32 is a profoundly mysterious story that raises numerous unanswerable questions.[1] Like:
Corrine Carvalho defines faith as “the stubborn refusal to let God off the hook.” Wrestling. And an adult faith welcomes that struggle. Answers to ultimate questions don’t come neatly packaged. And, in fact, answers aren’t the point. Meaning doesn’t come from having the answer. Meaning comes from the struggle to understand. It changes us, transforms us. Even renames us. It changed Jacob into Israel. So, what are you wrestling with today? Angels? Demons? Is it God or your conscience or your fears? Hold on. Persist. And remember, when you demand an easy answer, it is a blessing that God invites us to wrestle, not to be puppets. [1] Callie Plunkett-Brewton, working-preacher.org
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Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] July 23, 2023 “Surely God is in This Place” Genesis 28: 10-19a – The Message Jacob left Beersheba and went to Haran. He came to a certain place and camped for the night since the sun had set. He took one of the stones there, set it under his head and lay down to sleep. And he dreamed: A stairway was set on the ground and it reached all the way to the sky; angels of God were going up and going down on it. 13-15 Then God was right before him, saying, “I am God, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac. I’m giving the ground on which you are sleeping to you and to your descendants. Your descendants will be as the dust of the Earth; they’ll stretch from west to east and from north to south. All the families of the Earth will bless themselves in you and your descendants. Yes. I’ll stay with you, I’ll protect you wherever you go, and I’ll bring you back to this very ground. I’ll stick with you until I’ve done everything I promised you.” 16-17 Jacob woke up from his sleep. He said, “God is in this place—truly. And I didn’t even know it!” He was terrified. He whispered in awe, “Incredible. Wonderful. Holy. This is God’s House. This is the Gate of Heaven.” 18-19 Jacob was up first thing in the morning. He took the stone he had used for his pillow and stood it up as a memorial pillar and poured oil over it. He christened the place Bethel (God’s House). Last week I shared the story of Jacob and Esau – twins born to Isaac and Rebekah, a blessed event after 20 years of trying to get pregnant. But, in an ominous sign, these twins began fighting with each other even while they were still in the womb. It was so bad, Rebekah complained, “Why should I still live?” Jacob was born trying to get ahead of his brother, grasping onto Esau’s heel to hold him back as they came down the birth canal. And he never stopped trying to get ahead of his older brother. Having failed in the womb, as adults, Jacob tricked Esau into giving him his birthright for the price of some stew. Some years later, Jacob once again tricked Esau out of his rightful place as the head of the tribe. Jacob did this by conspiring with his mother Rebekah to deceive his father Isaac. It’s a wild story as good as any soap opera and if you want to catch up, watch or read last week’s sermon. So, today’s reading begins right after Jacob tricked his twin again. Esau was so angry, he promised to kill Jacob, but he would wait to do so until after their father was dead. But before that happened, Rebekah sent her favorite twin off to live with her brother Laban. Jumping ahead in the story, that’s where he met Laban’s daughters and was tricked into marrying both of them, which then, in retaliation, Jacob schemed to steal his uncle’s sheep. My colleague Jeffrey Spencer describes Jacob as someone who puts the fun in dysfunctional. So, today’s story happens at the end of the first day of running from Esau’s murderous rage. Jacob was so dog-tired he simply used a rock for his pillow and fell into a deep sleep, the kind with dreams so convoluted you wake up tired. Do you ever have those kinds of dreams? My worst dreams are of being late to something. More than once I’ve had a dream where I realize I forgot my sermon at home and think I’ve got enough time to run home and get it but something keeps happening and finally by the time I make it back to the church, you’ve all gone home very angry that I skipped out. Running, running, running… Jacob was running for his life when he laid his head on a rock and fell into a deep sleep. And what a fascinating dream. This is the source of the famous spiritual We Are Climbing Jacob’s Ladder, except in that case, the dream was of the enslaved escaping to heaven. That’s not Jacob’s dream. In his dream he saw God’s messengers busily going up and down like office workers on what we might envision as a Mayan Temple. The original audience would have imagined ziggurats in Babylon. But wait, Jacob wouldn’t have known what a Babylonian ziggurat was. Babylon was hundreds and hundreds of years later. What was that doing in his dream? The Book of Genesis was compiled during the Babylonian exile, full of stories the people had carried with them for generations. All of them true stories, except that they didn’t actually happen. Or maybe pieces of them happened that were all sewn together like a patchwork quilt. Do you remember in school having to diagram sentences?
Sorry to the English teachers in the room, but yuck. I hated doing that. As much as I hated diagraming Bible passages in seminary. We had to dissemble the biblical patchwork quilt. We used letters like J and D and P to delineate which paragraph or story belonged to which tradition and what era it had been written.[1] But once you could see what came from where, you could understand the why – the agendas and purposes of each group that contributed to the patchwork quilt. At first, that kind of deconstruction was disturbing. I remember how after 17 years of blissful ignorance in Sunday School, I got really angry with my first college Old Testament professor. I wasn’t prepared to hear Dr. Wilterdink say that the Bible is mythological. It took me a while to calm down. He wasn’t saying the Bible is a bunch of fairy tales, but it’s not history. The Bible is true, or rather, contains truth. I can even say it’s the Word of God. But it’s not factual. It wasn’t meant to be. They are stories passed down generation to generation to explain why we are who we are and why things happened. Like in today’s reading, one question might be why is this place, this rock, special? And so, we’re told a story about our ancestor Jacob and the time he escaped from his brother and used this rock as his pillow and turned it into a sacred pillar. This story also functions as a transition to explain how he came to marry his four wives and how he came to be the father of the 12 tribes of Israel. Except, it’s not the only story of how he came to meet his cousin-wives. In the chapter right before today, Genesis 27, a different story is told that the reason Jacob went off to Uncle Laban’s is because Isaac and Rebekah couldn’t stand the wives of Esau. Rebekah said to Isaac, “I’m sick to death of these Hittite women. If Jacob also marries a native Hittite woman, why should I continue to live?” The same question she asked of her feuding twins in the womb. So, in this version, Jacob is sent off to find a wife, not to escape Esau. Which is the true story? Truth is found in the meaning, not the history. After all the diagramming and dissembling, it makes total sense that it was written down during the Babylonian exile because during the exile, the Israelites were forced from their homeland, dragged away from the Temple where they worshiped God. Surely God was in that place! They mourned, how can we sing the songs of Zion in Babylon? In response, they told each other stories, including about the Patriarch Isaac and how at a time when he was utterly alone and afraid, running for his life, with only a rock for his pillow, he saw the connection of earth and heaven and woke up and exclaimed, “Surely God is in this place!” Hence, it’s a “true story” that God is not limited to a particular place. I love a good story about scandals and villains with soap opera twists. But ultimately, the question is, where is the truth in this story for you because the real commission of the spiritual life is to explore these texts until they aren’t just mythological stories about someone else but words by which we can live our lives. Words for those times, for example, when we feel utterly alone. Misunderstood or afraid. Times that we are trying to escape danger, even from family. Times when it has felt like all we’ve had was a rock for our pillow. And in those moments, asking, are we going to be OK? Richard Rohr said, “these are the places where human beings hate to go, but it’s the place where God is always leading us. It’s [the in-between place] when you have left the tried and true but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else.” We have lots of those times in our lives. Leaving a job without a new one, leaving a relationship without a new one, leaving a home and even leaving a church before you’ve found a new one. That place where we surely knew God but it’s not who we are anymore. We can visit all kinds of churches that might make a great new home but it’s not the same, even though “the same” is what we need to leave. As Rohr said, “It’s when you are between your old comfort and any new answer. [Those are anxious times and if] you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will keep running.” The spiritual life is learning how to hold anxiety, live with ambiguity, trust and wait. Jacob wasn’t on a vision quest. He wasn’t seeking deeper answers to spiritual truths. No, he had pushed his luck too far and was now running, running, running; he was in a limbo of his own making.[2] But pay attention: That’s exactly when God told Jacob, “Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go.” It’s easy to say surely God is in this beautiful sanctuary. But that dirty-tricks scoundrel Jacob, as well as the Babylonian exiles, learned that God is not limited to one place or time. It’s a true story that God is just as surely with us in the desolate, isolated, forlorn, anxious, and ambiguous places of our lives. And if you can trust that, you don’t have to run anymore. Searching for truth in this story and meaning, I also find encouragement to listen to our dreams. Dreams are often just weird. But sometimes they are the way the sacred and divine break through to share a message. Maybe it’s a message to carry on. Maybe it’s a message that you are not alone. Maybe it’s a message for when you find yourself between a rock and a hard place, knowing you had to leave something behind but unsure about what you will find. That’s exactly where you will find God – or God will find you – and you can turn your granite pillow into a pillar of gratitude. [1] Learn a little more here: https://www.britannica.com/topic/biblical-literature/The-patriarchal-narratives [2] Barbara Brown Taylor, Dreaming the Truth, Gospel Medicine Babylonian Ziggurat
Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] July 16, 2023 “Interesting Characters in Our Family Tree” Genesis 25: 19-34 – Common English Bible These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son. Abraham became the father of Isaac. 20 Isaac was 40 years old when he married Rebekah the daughter of Bethuel the Aramean and the sister of Laban the Aramean, from Paddan-aram. 21 Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, since she was unable to have children. The Lord was moved by his prayer, and his wife Rebekah became pregnant. 22 But the boys pushed against each other inside of her, and she said, “If this is what it’s like, why did it happen to me?”[a] So she went to ask the Lord. 23 And the Lord said to her, “Two nations are in your womb; two different peoples will emerge from your body. One people will be stronger than the other; the older will serve the younger.” 24 When she reached the end of her pregnancy, she discovered that she had twins. 25 The first came out red all over, clothed with hair, and she named him Esau. 26 Immediately afterward, his brother came out gripping Esau’s heel, and she named him Jacob. Isaac was 60 years old when they were born. 27 When the young men grew up, Esau became an outdoorsman who knew how to hunt, and Jacob became a quiet man who stayed at home. 28 Isaac loved Esau because he enjoyed eating game, but Rebekah loved Jacob. 29 Once when Jacob was boiling stew, Esau came in from the field hungry 30 and said to Jacob, “I’m starving! Let me devour some of this red stuff.” That’s why his name is Edom.[b] 31 Jacob said, “Sell me your birthright[c] today.” 32 Esau said, “Since I’m going to die anyway, what good is my birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Give me your word today.” And he did. He sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 So Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew. He ate, drank, got up, and left, showing just how little he thought of his birthright. In your family tree, do you have any “interesting characters”? And who knows… In a few generations, you might be the “interesting character” in your family tree. Well, here’s a doozy. A liar and a cheat – even cheating members of his own family. A deceiving dirty-tricks scoundrel willing to stoop lower than anyone could imagine. And a patriarch of three religions. Our religion. Jacob. So, to recap the last few weeks: there’s Abraham who had a child with his wife’s slave Hagar, a boy named Ishmael. And then a boy with Sarah when he was 100 years old and Sarah was 90, who you may remember laughed at the absurdity of such an idea. When he was born, they named him Isaac; later, as a 12 year old, Abraham almost sacrificed him. At age 40, Isaac married Rebekah. They too had difficulty getting pregnant and waited twenty years until Rebekah finally gave birth to twins – Esau and Jacob. But in a sign of their feuding to come, they put up a terrible battle with one another in Rebekah’s womb, all the way through the birth canal as Jacob grabbed onto the heel of Esau in an attempt to hold him back so Jacob could be born first. Jacob never gave up trying to get ahead of his twin, and he used deception, dirty tricks, lying and cheating to do it. Today’s text is just the beginning of one of the most “interesting characters” in our family tree. As you heard, Esau and Jacob may have been twins but they were nothing alike. Esau was a big brute and not the brightest bulb in the box. He was covered in red hair, even at birth, and loved hunting. Esau was his father’s favorite because he hunted for his favorite wild game – venison. On the other hand, Jacob was smaller, quieter, and “the brains” who preferred hanging around the tents. And he was his mother’s favorite. I always liked this part of the story. When I was younger, whenever we had potlucks at church, I hung out in the kitchen drying dishes so I could listen to the gossip. Did you hear what Laverne said? Girl!... Or the equivalent of whatever plump German women said. I enjoyed staying in the kitchen while all the other boys played football in the cemetery behind the church. One other detail: My brother was covered in red hair and he loves farming, hunting, and fishing. I hate touching the worms. But that’s where the brotherly comparisons stop. I hate the idea that one brother, a twin at that, would deceive the other. Jacob just couldn’t get over how a brute like Esau would inherit the family fortune. So, he came up with a scheme to trick Esau out of his birthright. Esau went out on a long hunt and Jacob knew he would come back hungry. Jacob found just the right place so the smell of his cooking would waft onto the path on which Esau would be walking home, ensuring the smell would entice Esau. Famished, Esau demanded some of Jacob’s stew but Jacob said the price would be Esau’s birthright – the rights to the entire family fortune for a bowl of stew. Even though Esau was born only seconds earlier, Esau was the eldest and entitled to it all. But the hungry Esau reasoned that he wouldn’t need his birthright if he starved to death, so he agreed – not the brightest bulb… He was enraged when he realized he had been tricked, but an oath was an oath. That’s just part one of their story. Jacob wanted more. He had the birthright and the fortune, but now he wanted the power that came with being named the leader of the tribe. That power was conferred on a father’s deathbed. Without such a blessing, Jacob would have been rich but not powerful. So, years later, Isaac lay on his death bed. The time had come for the blessing that conferred power over the tribe. Esau may have been tricked out his birthright, but he wasn’t going to be tricked out of this one. To please his father and seal the deal, Esau promised Isaac that he would go hunting and bring back his favorite game – venison. However, Rebekah overheard their conversation and told Jacob and the two of them conspired to trick Isaac and steal from Esau. Here’s how: Isaac was blind. While Esau was out on his hunt, Rebekah told Jacob to slaughter a goat and she would cook it to taste like venison. They dressed Jacob in Esau’s clothes so he would smell like his brother and put goatskin on his hands and neck so that when Isaac went to embrace Jacob, he would feel hairy like his brother. Isaac ate the fake venison, felt the hairy goat skin on his arms and neck when they embraced, but he was curious that his voice sounded like Jacob’s. He asked if that was really Esau. Jacob lied and, lowering his voice, said yes. And so, Isaac conferred upon Jacob the irrevocable blessing intended for Esau. Esau returned home with the venison and realized he had been tricked again. This time he was so angry he vowed to kill Jacob. But the story continues. Rebekah sent Jacob away to live with her brother, Laban. While living with Uncle Laban, Jacob fell in love with his daughter Rachel – yes, his first cousin, but at the time not forbidden. Uncle Laban agreed that Jacob could marry Rachel as long as he worked for him for seven years. Seven years went by, Jacob and his new wife consummated the marriage, but when the bridal veil was lifted for the first time, Jacob discovered he had just slept with Rachel’s older sister, Leah. Soap opera, anyone? Jacob was enraged that he had been tricked. Doesn’t feel very good, does it? Uncle Laban reasoned it would have been wrong for the younger sister to be married before the older, but he did offer that if Jacob worked for him another seven years, he could then marry the true love of his life, Rachel. By the way, married to two first cousins, sisters, at the same time. Jacob wasn’t simply going to let the deception go without revenge, so during those seven years, he ran a scheme against his uncle to steal his best sheep. Laban had agreed that he would keep all the white sheep and Jacob could have all the darker colored ones. Got it? Jacob painted the sheep so he could take them. Can anyone say dysfunctional family? Jacob and Laban lived together in an uneasy peace for six more years. One day, Jacob decided it was time to leave and try to reunite with his estranged brother Esau. But for whatever reason, he didn’t want to tell Uncle Laban he was leaving. So, while Laban was away, Jacob packed everything and everyone up, including Laban’s daughters. When Laban came home, he was angry that Jacob had simply left, but he was even more upset when he realized Jacob had stole all of his household gods – worth a lot of money. Laban raced after the traveling band and demanded his idols back, but Jacob’s beloved wife Rachel sat on them and proclaimed it was her time of the month so no one could touch her. You know the old saying, the family that steals together stays together. It was at that spot, a place known as Mizpah, that Jacob and Laban made a sort of peace with each other. They told each other “May the Lord keep watch between you and me while we are away one from the other.” We say that to each other at the end of every Church Council meeting. We hold our hands up to the Zoom screen and say this line to each other. I snicker to myself every time because it’s more than a blessing. It’s a warning. Laban and Jacob are really saying to each other, “I can’t keep my eye on you, but God will know what you’re up to.” And with that Mizpah Blessing, Uncle Laban went back home without his idols or his best sheep. The tricksters playing off each other back and forth. There is more to this story but I will get to that next week. What a family tree! When we tell family stories, we often clean them up a little, smooth out some of the rough edges. If this is the sanitized version, wow. But of course, there are plenty more stories in the Bible that are even more scandalous that this. King David alone will cause fainting and fury. I like these stories of real people because if God can use dirty tricks scoundrels like them, then surely God can use me. And you. And everyone we imagine to be outside the grace of God. And in that way, this story, and many others, isn’t primarily about us. It’s about the kind of God to whom we all belong. A God who loves me and who loves you. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Even Jacob. So, was all that trickery and deception OK? Is the Bible saying it’s alright to do all those things as long as it’s for a good reason? I don’t think so. Jesus asked, “what good is it to gain the whole world and lose your soul.” I think this falls more in line with Paul’s statement to the Romans: There is nothing in all of creation that can separate you from the love of God. “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Neither will lying, cheating, and trickery separate us, though I don’t recommend it as a philosophy of life. But I am grateful that no matter who we are on our family tree, God always has room for us. As well as all the dirty trick scoundrels to whom we are related. Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] June 25, 2023 “Hope Survives” Genesis 21: 8-21 – Common English Bible The boy grew and stopped nursing. On the day he stopped nursing, Abraham prepared a huge banquet. 9 Sarah saw Hagar’s son laughing, the one Hagar the Egyptian had borne to Abraham. 10 So she said to Abraham, “Send this servant away with her son! This servant’s son won’t share the inheritance with my son Isaac.” 11 This upset Abraham terribly because the boy was his son. 12 God said to Abraham, “Don’t be upset about the boy and your servant. Do everything Sarah tells you to do because your descendants will be traced through Isaac. 13 But I will make of your servant’s son a great nation too, because he is also your descendant.” 14 Abraham got up early in the morning, took some bread and a flask of water, and gave it to Hagar. He put the boy in her shoulder sling and sent her away. She left and wandered through the desert near Beer-sheba. 15 Finally the water in the flask ran out, and she put the boy down under one of the desert shrubs. 16 She walked away from him about as far as a bow shot and sat down, telling herself, I can’t bear to see the boy die. She sat at a distance, cried out in grief, and wept. 17 God heard the boy’s cries, and God’s messenger called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “Hagar! What’s wrong? Don’t be afraid. God has heard the boy’s cries over there. 18 Get up, pick up the boy, and take him by the hand because I will make of him a great nation.” 19 Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well. She went over, filled the water flask, and gave the boy a drink. 20 God remained with the boy; he grew up, lived in the desert, and became an expert archer. 21 He lived in the Paran desert, and his mother found him an Egyptian wife. At the tender age of 70, Terah became a father, ultimately of 3 boys. A few decades later, when his children had already started having their own children, he decided to move his whole family to a new country and start over again. Why not? He had a whole lot of living yet to do.[1] After Terah died, one of his sons decided to leave the clan and set off to pursue his own dreams. He took his nephew and his wife and his possessions and they set off. Young like his father, he was only 75 years old when he made this major life change. But soon after they settled in this new land, a famine hit. Desperate, they fled to another country and lived there as immigrants. His 65-year-old wife was a stunning beauty, a woman named Sarai. For whatever reason, when they arrived as immigrants in this country, if anyone asked, he told her to lie and say she was his sister instead of his wife. Indeed, that’s what she did when someone saw how beautiful she was and took her to meet the king. The king was taken by her and she moved in to live as part of the king’s haram. Meanwhile, her husband worked hard and prospered – adding donkeys and camels and servants to his belongings. But one day the king discovered Sarai was already married and, heartbroken, expelled the couple from his country. But they were allowed to take all their considerable wealth with them, which by this time not only included livestock but gold and silver. In fact, they had so much stuff, he and his nephew had to part ways because there wasn’t enough land for both of them. But there was one thing they didn’t have. They didn’t have heirs for all this wealth. Children. But if Robert DeNiro can become a dad again at age 79 and Al Pacino at 83, why not. Well, while Sarai may have been stunningly beautiful, biologically… you know. She decided to get creative to solve this issue. Have you picked up who this story is about? Sarai told Abram, now 86 years old, that he should sleep with her maid, a slave named Hagar. He did as she said but when Hagar got pregnant, Sarai fell into a jealous rage and treated Hagar so harshly, she ran away. Sarai then blamed Abram for listening to her. A messenger found Hagar along a desert spring and told her to return to Abram and Sarai and when she gave birth, Abram named their son Ishmael. Thirteen years later, Abram was told once again he would become a father. This time through his wife Sarai. He was now 99 years old and he fell on his face laughing at the idea of a 90-year-old woman giving birth – although she might not have been so amused. But God was serious and as a sign of this, from that day forward, they were renamed Abraham and Sarah. As you heard last week, one day some strangers passed by and Abraham pleaded that he may offer hospitality to them – a place to stay, some food to eat. While the food was being prepared, they told Abraham that when they passed by a year later, Sarah will have given birth to a son. Sarah overheard and laughed to herself, but one year later they indeed had a newborn son named Isaac. Sarah said, “God has given me laughter and everyone who hears about it will laugh with me.” And that’s where our reading today begins: “The boy grew and stopped nursing.” But as you heard, the story takes a very dark turn. Nearly 40 years ago, feminist scholar Phyllis Trible wrote a groundbreaking book called Texts of Terror.[2] They are texts in the Bible that are particularly disturbing. This is one of them. Most people think of Hagar, if anyone thinks of her at all, as a minor character at best. But Black womanist theologians, like Dr. Delores Williams, have long embraced Hagar as a curiously familiar and haunting story.[3] Black women hear in Hagar the stories of their own mothers and grandmothers who worked as domestics. They hear familiar stories of children born without their consent, of masters and those who are enslaved. They recognize pretexts created by white women that have resulted in getting fired or their children being treated more harshly and unfairly or even killed. For example, because someone claimed he had whistled at a white woman, Emmet Till was murdered. Hagar spoke up, which Sarah didn’t like. Likewise, Black women have heard themselves called uppity and worse for speaking up for themselves. Finally, Hagar was a woman forced out and abandoned, given almost nothing with which to survive. And yet she did. Just as Black, indigenous, and women of color do every day. Dr. Renita Weems said Hagar feels like a story we almost know by heart. In her book called Just a Sister Away she spoke of Hagar’s economic exploitation, sexual exploitation, and she laments, “Women betraying women when mercy could have been shown “just a sister away…”[4] But that’s the power of patriarchy – hierarchies of race, sex, and economics – that create suspicions instead of coalitions. True in the Bible. True, oh so true, in our world today. Our first encounter with this dynamic happens when Sarah felt that Hagar was treating her contemptuously. Was she really? Or was Sarah feeling insecure and created a pretext for jealousy. She complained to Abraham who told her that it’s her problem. Do whatever you want. The text says Sarah treated Hagar harshly. That’s also known as abuse. Hagar ran away. But this is where the text is truly terrible: An angel told her to return and “submit.” Then in today’s text, you heard Sarah worry that Hagar’s child will inherit Abraham’s birthright because he is the oldest, which would normally be true, except in this patriarchy, Hagar is a slave so the child born to her belonged to Sarah. And yet Sarah didn’t want to take any chances so she once again created a pretext to force Hagar to leave. She claimed that the teenage Ishmael was making fun of the toddler Isaac. And this time she demanded that Abraham do the dirty work. Send her away. Abraham agreed and sent them away with only a little bread and some water. That couldn’t possibly have been enough for them to survive in the wilderness, which was perhaps the point. And sure enough, the water ran out. Eventually Hagar couldn’t bear the suffering of her son so she left him under a tree and walked far enough away not to hear his agony or see his death. But you heard how this story ends. God heard his cries and sent a messenger. Hagar opened her eyes and saw a well. So, is this a story where it all worked out in the end? Once upon a time and happily ever after. After all, she revived Ishmael and he grew strong and became the ancestor of all Muslims, just like Isaac grew up and became the ancestor of all Jews and Christians. As members of the three Abrahamic faiths, these are our epic origin stories. An answer to who are we and where do we come from. But wait a minute. What about Hagar? What is the redeeming quality in this story for her? Delores Williams answered, “God is about both the liberation of the oppressed as well as their comfort and survival.” And sometimes the best that can come from a situation is survival. And a story in which someone as far out on the margins as Hagar survives, is liberating. As Williams said, sometimes all we need to know is that God is with us in our struggle, not why has God not taken us out of it yet. That is true no matter what our struggle might be. And we all have our own. What are you struggling with today? Remember that Hagar survived. These are our stories, within the larger epic story. My story and your stories are real, with lots of challenging, hard to hear, dynamics. Take these seriously. And then with all of the horrible things that happened to Hagar, remember that when she opened her eyes, she saw a well. She quenched her thirst and survived. Was the well there the whole time? Are we sometimes so consumed by something that we don’t see what is right in front of us? Maybe grief, or are we sometimes so busy that we look right past what is right there? No, there! Or are we sometimes so mad that we can see straight? Or are we so hopeless, we only look down, not forward? If only we lifted our heads… Hope. Like the well. God put it there. Hope. Put it in front of us every day. Whether or not we see it, like the well, hope is always waiting for us to discover it. We are the descendants of Hagar and Abraham and Sarah who persisted. And some days, that’s enough. The words of the next song say: You can take everything I have You can break everything I am Like I'm made of glass Like I'm made of paper Go on and try to tear me down [but] I will be rising from the ground Like a skyscraper[5] I will be rising from the ground The picture above is the road between Miles City, Montana, and Denver. This lonely section by Biddle hardly ever had vehicles on it - occasionally a few semi-trucks. And no cell service. [1] He lived to the ripe old age of 205 [2] Phyllis Trible, Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives, Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984 [3] Delores Williams, Sisters in the Wilderness: The Challenge of Womanist God-Talk, Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1993 [4] Renita J. Weems, Just a Sister Away: A Womanist Vision of Women’s Relationships in the Bible, San Diego: Luramedia, 1998 [5] Demi Lovato Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] June 18, 2023 “Juneteenth is Our Story” Luke 4: 16-21 - Common English Bible Jesus went to Nazareth, where he had been raised. On the Sabbath he went to the synagogue as he normally did and stood up to read. 17 The synagogue assistant gave him the scroll from the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: 18 The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me. He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to liberate the oppressed, 19 and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.[a] 20 He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the synagogue assistant, and sat down. Every eye in the synagogue was fixed on him. 21 He began to explain to them, “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled just as you heard it.” One of my first classes in seminary was Old Testament 101. Many of our other classes the first week began with story sharing, getting to know professors and classmates, but not Dr. Merrill. He walked into the classroom, placed his thick binder of lecture notes on the podium, and said, “Let us bow our heads in prayer.” From this first interaction, we knew he was serious about his task of preparing pastors to preach from Holy Scripture. No other professor had begun class with prayer. After his amen, he opened his binder and said, “And now we begin at the beginning.” We all waited to hear his deep and melodious voice, “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth…” Dr. Merrill had a wonderful Bruce Ramet kind of voice. Instead, he said, “A wandering Aramean was my father.” We looked at each other with confusion. He started in the 26th chapter of the fifth book – Deuteronomy. I wanted to tell him that’s not the first book in the Bible, but he probably knew that. In fact, we didn’t reach Genesis, chapter one, verse one, until the next semester in Old Testament 102. The phrase “A wandering Aramean” dates back 2,000 years before the Common Era and, according to some scholars, is one of the oldest phrases given human breath.[1] Remarkably, it is found in fragments of some of the earliest writings ever found, dating back 1,800 years BCE, making it literally, or at least close to it, the first thing ever written that is in the Bible. Genesis wasn’t written down until more than a thousand years after that! “A wandering Aramean was my father” was a key phrase that shaped a people around a common narrative. But first, the word “wandering” sounds kind of quaint. We may imagine wandering as strolling through the cobblestone streets of an old European city or popping in and out of antique stores. Who is a wanderer? Maybe a traveler full of dreams written in a journal while sipping coffee. But the Hebrew word for wandering is actually closer to one who is destitute, desperate. The Common English Bible makes this clear: “My father was a starving Aramean.” To hear that line was to know that the story to follow tells us who we are. Our origin story is Deuteronomy 26, verse 5, our father was a starving Aramean who “went down to Egypt, living there as an immigrant with few family members, but that is where he became a great nation, mighty and numerous. 6 But the Egyptians treated us terribly, oppressing us and forcing hard labor on us. 7 So we cried out for help to the Lord, our ancestors’ God. The Lord heard our call. God saw our misery, our trouble, and our oppression. 8 The Lord brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, with awesome power, with signs and wonders 9 [and] brought us to this place and gave us this land—a land full of milk and honey.” And then the story continues, “10 So now I am bringing the early produce of the fertile ground that you, Lord, have given me.” This story leads us into instructions about tithing. Can you believe it? The oldest writing in the Bible leads to what we call stewardship! It is about responding to what God has done in our lives, but specifically demonstrated through tithes that support “immigrants, widows, orphans, and Levites,” meaning the ones who served as priests. Get this. The earliest form of tithes tied to one of the oldest stories includes making sure immigrants “can eat in your cities until they are full.” The Bible says so, literally, in Deuteronomy 26: 12. Not flown to another city and dumped at the door of a church. But I’ve gotten off track. It’s an invitation to stewardship but also expresses yearning for liberation. The oldest story in the Bible is not only about us but about our God who frees people suffering from cruel treatment and forced labor and also a promise that one day people would live in a land flowing with milk and honey. And in fact, reflecting back, now they were. In our country, it took a Civil War, waged for the soul of our nation, that killed more than 600,000 soldiers and even more citizens, to end the enslavement of people. Unfortunately, this is not only the oldest story in the Bible but one continually repeated. How could anyone think God would approve of anyone enslaving or being enslaved. Despite this clarity, yet President Lincoln said, “my concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God's side, for God is always right.” Which side seems quite clear. Just use the words of scripture and replace Egyptians with slaveowners. Slaveowners “treated us terribly, oppressing us and forcing hard labor on us. 7 So we cried out for help to the Lord, our ancestors’ God. The Lord heard our call. God saw our misery, our trouble, and our oppression. 8 The Lord brought us out… with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, with awesome power, with signs and wonders 9 [and] brought us to this place and gave us this land—a land full of milk and honey.” Except the story in America didn’t end this way – yet. No milk and honey. No 40 acres and a mule. Compensation was given to those who dared offend God by claiming the right to own people as property to do with whatever they wished. They were paid for their “loss of labor” but those who were forced to labor were only given new ways to be enslaved, lynched, segregated, and brutalized. That is, those who were even informed of their freedom from bondage. Out in the hinterlands, in places like Texas, people continued to defy God’s design for human freedom. They knew of the Emancipation Proclamation. They knew the Confederacy had been brought down in humiliating defeat, they lost and surrendered, but they kept it a secret as long as they thought they could get away with it. Enter Juneteenth and General Granger’s now-famous Order No. 3. I told the story last year about Juneteenth that General Granger had not been given the task of going around sharing the news of emancipation. He and his company were on their way to secure the Mexican border from the invading army of Napoleon. The French were establishing colonies in Mexico so the southern border had to be secured from the French. It was while they were on their way for that assignment that a terrible storm hit, bad enough to cause their ships to seek shelter. The storm forced the transport ships to anchor in Galveston Bay on June 18, 1865. The next day they went ashore and discovered thousands of people still enslaved, working in the ports and houses and fields. And so, Order No. 3 was written.[2] But what if there had been no storm? When would word of emancipation, freedom, reached Texas? You know how storms are sometimes called Acts of God? I’ve never liked that. But at least in this case, I’m glad for such an Act of God storm – you know, “God’s strong hand and outstretched arm, with awesome power, with signs and wonders” that forced a ship to find shelter on the shore of Galveston Bay. “The Lord heard our call. God saw our misery, our trouble, and our oppression. 8 The Lord brought us out…” Juneteenth may be a new federal holiday but it’s an enactment of one of the oldest stories in the Bible. This story makes me think that sometimes we need to thank God for the storms that pass through our lives. Sometimes we need to thank God for storms that take us off track, never knowing where we might be led or what we might be called to do. Never knowing who is waiting for us. Or as Marla would ask, where is the gift in this storm? This summer we will follow the grand sweep of stories that shape who we are in the Judeo-Christian tradition, starting with the call of Abram and Sarai to pick up and move by stages to a land which would be revealed. That was last week’s reading from the lectionary. Today, Sarah laughed at the absurdity that she, a 90-year-old woman without any children and her 100-year-old husband would one day have so many descendants, it would be just as easy to count sand on a beach than the generations that would follow. Just look though. Count all the adherents of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity, billions on the earth, just counting today, and you will see it was no laughing matter. Next week Hagar, then Rebekah, the fighting twins Jacob and Esau, sisters Leah and Rachel, Jacob wrestling in the night, Joseph sold by his 12 brothers, slavery in Egypt, Moses and freedom and complaining in the wilderness, the 10 commandments and golden calves, and finally the promised land. This is our story for we are all descendants of a certain wandering Aramean, we are all part of a biblical narrative that calls forth freedom and liberation, whether our own or as participants with God. Just like Juneteenth is all our story – the story of our nation yet called to live more perfectly into freedom for all by each of us taking a stand today:
And then we shall all be free. [1] https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2008/dec/23/religion-christmas-bible-deuteronomy#:~:text=%22A%20wandering%20Aramean%20was%20my%20father.%22%20It%20goes%20back,2000%20BC%20and%20probably%20before. [2] Jayne Marie Smith, Sojourners, June 17, 2021 Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] May 21, 2023 “No Ordinary Love” John 17: 1-5, 11 – Common English Bible When Jesus finished saying these things, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, so that the Son can glorify you. 2 You gave him authority over everyone so that he could give eternal life to everyone you gave him. 3 This is eternal life: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you sent. 4 I have glorified you on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do. 5 Now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I shared with you before the world was created. 11 I’m no longer in the world, but they are in the world, even as I’m coming to you. Holy Father, watch over them in your name, the name you gave me, that they will be one just as we are one. (NRSV – That they may all be one) When the United Church of Christ was formed 66 years ago, it was with the express purpose in today’s text: That They May All Be One. That was our motto. Officially, it might still be, but if I asked you what our motto is, what would you say? Probably, “God is Still Speaking.” Or you might quote, “Don’t place a period where God has placed a comma,” which is actually Gracie Allen and not scripture. “That they may all be one” was part an ecumenical zeal at the turn of the 20th century that talked of denominationalism as a “sin.” Into that spirit, our history began with the Congregational Churches and the Christian Churches uniting in 1931. And in 1934, two German immigrant denominations in our family tree came together to form the Evangelical and Reformed Church, which we call the E and R. There other denominations reuniting. For example, pro-slavery Methodists broke off and created the Methodist Church South in 1845. Northern and southern Methodists were reunited in 1939; however, only if all African Americans were segregated into a separate conference. That changed in 1968, but just four years later, a new division began when a rule was adopted in their Book of Discipline stating that homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. Sadly, after 50 years of fighting over that line, the church has started splitting again, often in the same lines as slavery. In the past year, 3,000, mostly southern, churches have broken away, with more to come before the end of the year. Most of them joining a new anti-LGBTQ denomination. Presbyterians split over slavery too. Their reunion came in 1983. It was supposed to happen in 1954, but after the Supreme Court decision about school desegregation, southern Presbyterians pulled back. But since 1983, new divisions have formed, largely over LGBTQ inclusion. Today there are multiple Presbyterian denominations. Baptists also split in 1845 over slavery. The north and south have not reunited. And Southern Baptists are dealing with another issue dividing them – women pastors. Except they are not splitting. They’re simply expelling churches who advocate for women, ensuring that Southern Baptist pulpits will forever remain closed to women. The denominations that formed the UCC were almost exclusively northern and so there was no big split over slavery. In fact, Congregationalists were often at the forefront of abolition. Much of the uniting was reuniting or bringing together churches with a shared ethnic heritage, a shared theology or creed, or a shared way of being church, such as their autonomy. The United Church of Canada was one of the first in the world to bring together Christians across theological and significant organizational differences, uniting Methodists, Congregationalists, and Presbyterians in 1925 – the first was in The Philippines in 1901. Attempts to do something on the same scale in the US failed to go anywhere, although there were plenty of conversations and proposals. That’s around the time our UCC forebears began conversations about a larger union or merger that could result in upwards of 8,000 churches. But it wouldn’t be easy. Why? Congregationalists are fiercely dedicated to each church’s autonomy but the E&R operated more like a group with some hierarchy. The practices and theologies of the two were quite diverse. Would they be coerced into some kind of conformity for the sake of unity? Despite these questions, Jesus had prayed to his Father: That they may all be one. And that was the driving force. It appeared to be working. In the late 1940s, with the horrors of a divided world in World War II very much in mind, a union of these very different traditions was successfully moving forward. But there was some significant opposition among Congregationalists. And then in 1949, some members of Cadman Memorial Church in New York City filed a lawsuit alleging that the “merger” would violate local autonomy. The New York Supreme Court upheld the case and stopped any activity for four years until it was overturned by the Court of Appeals. Work resumed and the UCC was finally born in 1957. That they may all be one! Except for the 1,000 Congregational churches that started a new denomination instead. It seems that every merger of two churches creates a new total of three. Would Jesus weep over the inability of his disciples to become one church? Or was that his prayer? What did Jesus really mean when he prayed, “that they may all be one?” John emphasized over and over the unity of Father and Son. Like the circular logic of the Gospel of John, Father and Son are circular, one flowing into the other and back again. I believe that the followers of Jesus are to be a mirror of God and Jesus as one. But all being “one” does not mean that all must be the “same.” Jesus and God are not the same. We agreed about this at Lunch and Lectionary on Thursday, although one person commented, if we’re not all called to be the same, couldn’t we at least all go in the same direction? I agree. Unless I disagreed with the direction chosen! When “let’s all get along” means leaving some people out, then I dissent. Many UCCs begin worship with the same line: No matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here. That’s the “same direction” I’d like to go. The inclusion of all people of every race, color, nationality, ability, gender and identity, orientation, language… An equal place at the table for people of all faiths or none. A celebration of diversity. Healing from our very real divisions over slavery in our past that are still very much present today. Ironically, other Christians are fighting against that very “same direction.” What did Jesus mean? Eugene Peterson translates “that they may all be one” in this way: “so they can be one heart and mind, as we are one heart and mind.” But, we are very much not. Yet, if not of one heart and mind, isn’t it possible we could at least find one purpose? In 1987, diverse constituencies of the UCC created a Statement of Mission. It’s what we used to open the service today. They met to try to find some common theological ground – evangelicals and liberals, social justice types and charismatics, folks from our theological diversities that include LGBTQ people and others who claimed what they called a “biblical witness.” The Statement articulates a lot of purposes, but, I wonder, is there something behind them that might help us all be one? So, I went back to the Gospel of John to ask, “what would make us all one?” Here’s an idea. Jesus said, “This is eternal life: to know you, the one and only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you sent.” What if our one purpose, our one prayer to God, was to “know you?” The caveat, however, there’s always a caveat, is the language, “the one and only true God.” To respect all religions and make peace in the world is to take that phrase out of our vocabulary. We could say, our one and only true God. But if our purpose was to know God, would, or could, everything else flow from that? However, we don’t all come to know or experience God in the same way.
What is the one purpose behind worship and praise and protest and prayer and community and solitude and music and study and children and the dying and communion and soup? What is our one purpose? At least for today, I want to suggest it is to know God and seek God all our days. Because if you know God, you know love. And if you know love, if you know that you are loved and that our calling is to love, you know God. You see that very circular logic of John’s gospel? It’s confounding. Or is it really just that simple? If who we are as the United Church of Christ and as Mission Hills UCC is to know God in all we do, shall we then all be one? I believe the answer is yes. Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] May 14, 2023 “No Ordinary Love” John 14: 15-21 – Common English Bible “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. 16 I will ask the Father, and he will send another Companion,[a] who will be with you forever. 17 This Companion is the Spirit of Truth, whom the world can’t receive because it neither sees him nor recognizes him. You know him, because he lives with you and will be with you. 18 “I won’t leave you as orphans. I will come to you. 19 Soon the world will no longer see me, but you will see me. Because I live, you will live too. 20 On that day you will know that I am in my Father, you are in me, and I am in you. 21 Whoever has my commandments and keeps them loves me. Whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.” Some people find it easy to say “I love you” and some people find it very hard. My mom was the latter. I knew she loved me but much more because of her actions than her words. I have no doubt. I felt loved, cared for. She prayed for me, she sacrificed for me, but the words didn’t come easily. They were more like the last few words as the car door shuts before driving away for another six months – almost like, I should say that. She wasn’t a big hugger either. My mom loved me – even though it wasn’t easy for her to say it. The question came up on Thursday, did Jesus ever say “I love you?” Not really. Love was a frequent topic, but like my mother, Jesus showed it more directly than he spoke it directly. He got close. In the next chapter, chapter 15, verse 9, he said: “As the Father loved me, I too have loved you. Remain in my love.” “I too have loved you” doesn’t quite qualify as “I love you,” but it’s consistent with John’s circular logic. In John, Jesus doesn’t tell the kinds of stories and parables we are more accustomed to in the other gospels. Instead, it’s such circular speech as, “Because God loves me, I love you too.” But, wait. What if God didn’t love him, would he also likewise not love his disciples? It sounds conditional. Except. Except that “God loves” or “God is love” is not a question. God is love – period. Unless, of course, you do not believe that God is literally love. And I would understand. We weren’t all raised with a theology of God’s love but rather an angry punishing God whose love was very much conditional on your behavior. Just like many of us were raised by parents whose love was very much conditional and could be revoked. As I implied earlier in my prayer, nothing about motherhood is simple, surely not as simple as saying, “I love you.” Love is not primarily an emotion that rises out of our chest, a tear from the eye, a feeling, an attachment. Love is an action. A series of actions that are consistent. A series of actions that are consistent because they are not about how you feel about it but because they are based on something else. For example, the commandments of Jesus, “If you love me.” On the one hand, that sounds very much like conditional love. I will only love you if you do what I say. But that’s not what Jesus has been saying. He has been talking a lot about a “way.” A way of life. And not just talking about it, but showing us a way of life that is based on loving one another. Whether or not we feel like loving. Something we can keep doing, day in and day out, because the commandments are the path. They are the way to love. We’ve all heard it before. Jesus said all the law and prophets are summed up into two commandments: To love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. And to love your neighbor as yourself. Every neighbor as confounding and difficult as they may be. And to love ourselves, as doubtful as we may be that we are worthy of love. But again, it’s not the emotion of love – heart pounding, sweaty palms, face turning red. It’s not the words “I love you” or the lack of them that matter the most. It’s the consistent actions of love. But Jesus knows that’s not easy, so he promises to send another in his absence. In these chapters, Jesus has been preparing his disciples for his death, which, in fact, will happen the very next day. How will they keep following in his way when he isn’t there to show them? So, Jesus promises to send a “paraclete.” Paraclete is a Greek word that doesn’t have a precise translation into English. Various translations include comforter. Counselor. Encourager. Helper. The Common English Bible uses the word Companion. Literally though, a paraclete is “one who comes alongside you.” I agree with the scholars who translate the word as Advocate: one who pleads your case, who understands, takes your side, who intercedes for you, and who stands up for you.[1] It kind of reminds me of the work of Just in Time for Foster Youth. After a life of being shuffled from home to another with your belongings in garbage bags, or as Tasha spoke of last week, spending her childhood in one home with adults who kept trying to demoralize her and minimize her and even stole from her, Just in Time comes alongside and helps build a life with educational supports, mental health counseling, help to find a first home, and people to just love you unconditionally. I’ve rarely seen an organization quite as focused on its mission as closely to this biblical word paraclete. In fact, Jesus immediately follows these words with, “I will not leave you as orphans.” Like, I will not leave you alone as an 18-year-old who has “graduated” from the system to figure it out on your own. I will send you an advocate. Did my father love me? Yes, of course, though as a child I didn’t quite see it that way. After church most weeks, we had roast for dinner. Not the food my mother put in the oven as we drove off for Sunday School, but roast preacher. My dad would find something about which to comment, or rather criticize, except on those Sundays when the preacher and his wife were actually guests for dinner. Therefore, it wasn’t a surprise when I became the flavor of roast on Sundays, mostly having to do with my playing the piano or organ. Or on the way home from a school concert. I was certain to get a lecture on what I had done wrong and how I could have improved it. My mother was the paraclete. She would stand up for me. She would intercede as both advocate and comforter. I assume my father thought criticism was loving. Increasingly it became “Don’t get a big head.” I can’t tell you how many times I heard “don’t get a big head.” Which, not until adulthood, did I realize meant he couldn’t find something to criticize – not that I was perfect, but I was certainly getting better. Nearer the end of his life, however, he switched gears completely. I don’t know what happened, but he couldn’t stop telling me how proud he was. Often with tears. I would respond, I know, I know. But he was determined that no matter how often he must say it, I would know his last words for me were of his pride. We all have our own stories like this – painful and joyful. Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Love in practice is so often conditional. But let’s be clear: he didn’t say “If you keep my commandments, then I will love you.” Instead, he was describing a way of life. A path. Follow my teachings. But even better, follow my example, like this one: “There is no greater love than to lay one’s life down for a friend.” Jesus not only said it, he did it. As he told his disciples, the world doesn’t understand this, they don’t see this. In a world where every man is supposed to be out for himself, no matter how often he lies, cheats, or steals to get ahead – that’s no ordinary love. Jesus had compassion on the crowds, so he told the disciples, “You feed them.” In a world that sends people off with thoughts and prayers – that’s no ordinary love. When he saw a group of men ganging up on a woman, ready to stone her, enforcing laws on her they didn’t apply to themselves, Jesus stepped in and said, let the one without sin cast the first stone. In our world out for blood – that’s no ordinary love. Jesus had mercy upon those who begged for healing, Jesus affirmed them by saying your faith has made you well. In a world where people with no shoes are told to pull up your own bootstraps – that’s no ordinary love. Jesus told stories about leaving the 99 behind to go find the just the one. In a world where the odd-one-out is thrown out for being different, Jesus has no ordinary love. Did he say I love you? Which is more important: To say “I love you” or consistently do the Jesus kind of unconditional, transformational, healing, feeding, lay-down-your-life sacrificial love? If you love me. [1] David Lose, Working Preacher Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] May 7, 2023 “The Way of Jesus is the Way of Love” John 14: 1-7 – Common English Bible “Don’t be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. 2 My Father’s house has room to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to prepare a place for you? 3 When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too. 4 You know the way to the place I’m going.” 5 Thomas asked, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 6 Jesus answered, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 If you have really known me, you will also know the Father. From now on you know him and have seen him.” For You may be familiar with these words: In my Father’s house, there are many rooms,[1] or In my Father’s house, there are many dwelling places, or In my Father’s house, there is plenty of room, or if you grew up on the King James, In my Father’s house there are many mansions. How many of you have been at a memorial service that included talk of pearly gates and golden streets leading each of us to our own mansion in the sky? I don’t know about individual mansions but it certainly speaks of a vision of God that is expansive. Jesus spoke these words to his disciples on the night before his crucifixion. They are the beginning of what are known as Jesus’ Farewell Discourses – unique only to John’s gospel – a series of teachings stretching from chapter 14 to 17. He is preparing them for his death, he’s reassuring them of his continued presence, he’s promising them the comfort of the Holy Spirit, he’s encouraging them to live in unity, and especially, Jesus is exhorting them to love. They’ll know you are my disciples by your love. The passage begins, “Do not be troubled.” These are words of encouragement to “trust in God. Trust also in me. My Father’s house has room to spare. I’m going to prepare a place for you and I will return to take you with me. [But don’t worry.] You know the way to the place I’m going.” Thomas asked, “Lord, how can we know the way?” Great question, right? But imagine, if the disciples who have spent a year learning from Jesus, maybe 3; if they don’t yet know the way, what chance do we have? So, Jesus responded, “Hey dummies…” Well, probably not, but if this were Mark’s gospel, Jesus might have said, “How can you still be so clueless?” After all this time together, how can you not understand that I’m the way. Oh, but if only Jesus would have stopped there. Instead, he continued with, dare I say, one of the most misused verses in the Bible – “No one comes to the Father except through me.” Misused but not necessarily mistranslated. Of 62 English translations of that verse, 36 of them say, “No one comes to the Father except through me.” 13 translations say, “No one comes to the Father, but by me.” Some of the others say, “The only way to the Father is through me.” They’re all pretty clear that Jesus is the “only” way. But, although this may be the answer, what is the question? This may be what it says, but what is it saying? What is the question? Thomas asked Jesus, “How can we know the way?” Thomas didn’t ask, “What happens to people if they don’t believe in you?” He didn’t ask, “Are non-Christians going to hell?” Of course, at the time, there were no “Christians” so everyone was a “non-Christian.” But let’s be clear: Jesus wasn’t setting up criteria to keep certain people out. You know, up in heaven, Peter and Paul had a dilemma. Peter was in charge of checking people in at the gate. Paul was in charge of keeping track of people. But Paul kept finding more people than Peter had been admitting at the gate. This discrepancy greatly annoyed both of them. They couldn’t figure it out. Then one day, Paul came running to Peter and said, “I found out what’s been happening! It’s Jesus. He keeps sneaking people in!”[2] After all, Jesus has just talked about the expansive “many” rooms. Plenty of room. Room to spare. He may have said, “The only way to the Father is through me,” but by it, he wasn’t also saying, “and keep everyone else out.” In Peter and Paul’s heavenly scenario, Jesus had to find a way to get around the misuse of his words. The question Thomas asked was, “How can we know the way?” Jim Burklo answered by saying, before doing anything else, “we must fall in love.”[3] It is not to first adopt the right set of beliefs and recite the words of a creed. It has nothing to do with believing “about” Jesus. It is to be moved by his example of love. It is to hear his words and marvel, to fall in love with, the possibility of a world transformed by love. Jim described being 16 years old on a backpacking trip in the Sierra Nevada mountains with his youth group. We got to the top of Kearsarge Pass, with its spectacular view of alpine lakes and peaks. As we rested, our leader read aloud from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. There, at 11,760 feet, Jesus’ words came alive when he heard, “But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…” He said, “My chest exploded with radiating warmth. I was overwhelmed by the love that Jesus preached and practiced. I realized how hard it would be to love my enemies, but the voice of Jesus, calling across the centuries, vibrated within me. When we put on our backpacks and resumed our hike, I took my first step on the trail and began my commitment to walk with Jesus, one foot in front of the other, on his path ever since.” What is falling in love? It is aching for our divided world so much that we commit to loving our neighbor. And when we feel anxiety about our place in this world so much so that we don’t know our own worth, falling in love is hearing Jesus say to not just love God and our neighbor but to love ourselves too. To fall in love is to set aside judgment of both others and ourselves despite our many faults and failures – and theirs. Please know that what others say about you, especially what Christians say, if it is not about love, it is not the way of Jesus because no one shall come to the Father except through love. The way of Jesus is the way of love. No one shall come to the Father except through love. We might think this is a call to action to extend more kindness and compassion in the world – and yes, it is. Except that it’s more than acting with kindness and compassion. How can we know the way? Jesus has been showing his disciples a path that if we love Jesus, that love will transform us from the inside out and allow us to do more than we ever imagined ourselves. I don’t know what to do with the people whose toxic and hateful rhetoric causes such terrible agony to so many people, especially transgender people right in this moment, that they think the only solution is to kill themselves to escape the pain. How can I possibly love those who think that being the most cruel is a winning strategy? I know that on my own I can’t love some people. But on the Jesus path, I trust that with God’s help, I can. And as often as I fail at it, I can fall in love all over again. Not to find a new lover but to return here every week to hear the vision of God of an expansive life where there is room for everyone. Or go into a closet in our room where we can close the door and listen only to the voice of Jesus who invites us to follow the way, the truth, and the life. The way of love, the truth of love, and the life of love. The way of Jesus is not to disparage one another but to love. It is not endless hopelessness or cynicism but love. The truth of Jesus is that despair isn’t the way to a transformed life. Love is. Not some cheap sentimental wish but the hard work of justice. A Jesus-centered life is to know that returning hate with hate gets us nowhere because the way of Jesus, the way to God, is through love. Only love. Because in my Father’s house, there are many rooms, many dwelling places, many mansions – plenty of room. Room enough for us all. If this wasn’t so, it wouldn’t be of Jesus, because the way of Jesus is the way of nothing except love. [1] I’m using “Father” instead of a more inclusive “God” because Jesus is talking about his intimate relationship. “God’s House” doesn’t communicate in the same way, I believe. [2] Story frequently told by Peggy Campolo, referenced in Red Letter Revolution: What If Jesus Really Meant What He Said?” by Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo [3] Jim Burklo, Tenderly Calling: An Invitation to the Way of Jesus, St. Johann Press, 2021. Jim is a UCC pastor and a Dean at USC Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] April 30, 2023 “Are They Actually Looking Out for You?” John 10: 1-10 – The Message “Let me set this before you as plainly as I can. If a person climbs over or through the fence of a sheep pen instead of going through the gate, you know he’s up to no good—a sheep rustler! The shepherd walks right up to the gate. The gatekeeper opens the gate to him and the sheep recognize his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he gets them all out, he leads them and they follow because they are familiar with his voice. They won’t follow a stranger’s voice but will scatter because they aren’t used to the sound of it.” 6-10 Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. “I’ll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep rustlers, every one of them. But the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of. You may recall a story we heard during Lent about a man who was born blind. Jesus mixed some dirt and spit together to create a mud paste and wiped it on the man’s eyes and when the man went to wash his face, he could see. When he came back with sight, people didn’t believe it was the same man. He had to keep saying, “No it’s me.” They took the man to his parents. “Is this your son? Why can he see?” They said, “Ask him. He can talk.” But they had heard his answers and didn’t like them so the Pharisees objected that this happened on the Sabbath – can’t be from God. Round and round and finally Jesus said, “I came so that those who cannot see now will, and those who can see, or who think they can see, may now become blind.” The Pharisees were indignant. “Surely you’re not calling us blind. Only sinners are blind.” Jesus responded, “If you were blind you wouldn’t have any sin. But because you say you can see, your sin remains.” How dare he. But the insults to their egos just continue, rolling right into today’s reading. Jesus said, 1-5 “Let me set this before you as plainly as I can.” He set before them the image of a sheep pen. [IMAGE 1] A sheep pen is an enclosure for sheep at night – walls, perhaps stones piled up, with one gate to limit access. Someone must watch the pen all night long to ensure no one climbs over the wall to steal the sheep or so a wolf doesn’t squeeze past the gate to devour the sheep. [OFF] It’s an unfamiliar image to us but everyone listening could fully understand. Jesus may have even said, “see that sheep pen over there?” Some villages might only have one sheep pen in common with many families. Again, Jesus said, 1-5 “Let me set this before you as plainly as I can.” And then he said, “If someone climbs over the fence instead of going through the gate, you know he’s up to no good—it’s a sheep rustler! A true shepherd walks right to the gate and the gatekeeper opens the gate to him. And when he calls out, his own sheep will recognize his voice and follow him out of the pen and go out to pasture. (So clearly, this is a pen with the sheep of more than one family.) Only his own sheep will follow the sound of his voice because it is familiar.” Jesus explained, “They won’t follow a stranger’s voice but will scatter because they aren’t used to the sound of it.” Jesus told this simple story, but as the text says, the Pharisees “had no idea what he was talking about.” So, he tried again. “Let me be explicit. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good and the sheep know it. Sheep won’t listen to a voice they don’t know. And again, he said, I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.” I often find John’s gospel frustratingly unclear and its stories often so circular in motion I get lost. But with patience, this one will start to make sense. The Bible also has so many stories about sheep and shepherds, they can sort of all run together. That’s because this was the life of the people. I told the Lunch and Lectionary group that if Jesus had lived in Pittsburgh 100 years ago, he would have used a lot of images of steel mills and furnaces as hot as hell and the people living in run down tenant homes while greedy industrialists lived in mansions towering on the hillsides. Jesus spoke in ways that real people could clearly understand as relating to their own lives. Or if Jesus traveled through mining towns during the gold rush, he would have used lots of images of searching for gold and sifting through dirt and climbing into dark and dangerous tunnels that can cave in at any moment. Make sure your life is right every time you go in. Or if Jesus was in Cupertino today, he would have told as many stories about apples as he would have about sheep. He’d say, “I’m the Good Apple.” Instead, as Jesus goes on, 11-13 “I am the Good Shepherd.” And what does that mean? He explained, “the Good Shepherd puts the sheep before himself, sacrifices himself to keep them safe if necessary. In contrast, a hired man is not a real shepherd. The sheep mean nothing to him. He sees a wolf come and runs for it, leaving the sheep to be ravaged and scattered by the wolf. He’s only in it for the money. The sheep don’t matter to him.” We get that. Someone who’s only in it for themselves. Here’s a modern reference. I’m constantly getting phone calls, voice mails, and texts from people trying to get me to sign up for their Medicare Advantage plan. Jesus would say, “I am your Good Medicare Plan Representative.” All the others are “wolves in sheeps clothing.” Only in it for the money. The sheep don’t actually matter to them. Rather, Jesus said, 14-18 “I am the Good Shepherd. I know my own sheep and my own sheep know me. In the same way, God knows me and I know God. I put the sheep before myself, sacrificing myself if necessary.” That’s what the Good Teacher does too. They put themselves in front of their students to shield them every time another mass shooter walks into a school. Of course, they wouldn’t have to if it weren’t for the hired hands of the gun lobby. What was it that Jesus said? Only in it for the money. The sheep/the children don’t matter to them. They are the price they are willing to have someone else pay. But then Jesus added a curious line: “You need to know that I have other sheep in addition to those in this pen. I need to gather and bring them, too. They’ll also recognize my voice. Then it will be one flock, one Shepherd.” The text continues, 19-21 ”This kind of talk caused another split in the religious ranks. A lot of them were saying, “He’s crazy, a maniac— completely out of his head. Why bother listening to him?” He’s demonic. But others weren’t so sure: “These aren’t the words of a crazy man. Can a ‘maniac’ open blind eyes?” Ah! And we’re back to the beginning where this all started. Full circle. “Surely you’re not calling us blind!” The story then jumps to Jesus walking around the Temple and a crowd of his opponents encircle him and growl, “How long are you going to test our patience?” Perhaps mumbling something about decorum too. Jesus went right back to talking about sheep and how no one is going to snatch them away on his watch. To which the opposition actually picked up stones and threatened him – not for hurting their egos but for “insulting God!” After that, Jesus left town and went back to where John had baptized him. It’s reassuring to know that when Jesus knew he needed to take a break, he took a break. That’s the example of a very good shepherd indeed. Protecting sheep is exhausting work! If you only look at the lines provided by the lectionary, this story lacks the drama and the tension that surrounds it. And without understanding the agricultural lives of these people, it’s all an abstraction. We might simply think of a nice pastoral image of Jesus holding a cute little lamb and saying, “I am the Good Shepherd,” with an adoring smile as he gazes lovingly. Rather, he is engaging the forces of those who steal, kill, and destroy while he tries to protect those whom he loves so much, he is willing to lay down his life to protect them. That’s the line I skipped over in the middle of all this. Jesus said, “I freely lay down my life. No one takes it from me. I lay it down of my own free will. I have the right to lay it down; I also have the right to take it up again.” Yes. This is what a Good Shepherd does. And how about all those other hired hands and sheep rustlers? What are they in it for? Sacrifice has nothing to do with it.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd, who sacrificed his life for you, but not only you. And anyone who tries to convince you that you are the center of the universe is only trying to steal, kill, and destroy. For themselves. How can we know the difference? Ask:
Only a false shepherd would say your interests are more important than the interest of the whole. I mean, you matter, you count, you belong to the almighty God of the entire cosmos who knows you by name – can you believe it! But it all means nothing without everyone else whom God also knows and loves just as much. There is only one flock called humankind. And if you hear a shepherd say that kind of thing, you can trust they are good. April 27, 2023 I never aspired to live in California. I did aspire to live in Denver, which my husband and I achieved in 2007. We thought Colorado would be our forever home, but one day I visited San Diego. Why I was in San Diego in the first place is an incredible story – trust me – but too long for here. I enjoyed walking the beaches every day but did not have aspirations to live there. When I returned home, even though I hadn’t suggested it, my husband was clear: We’re not moving to San Diego. Well… Almost two years from the day he said that, we went under contract for a condo in San Diego. In the meantime, because of work commitments, we lived apart for 18 months – maintaining an apartment in San Diego and a house in Denver. If only maintaining two households was as cheap as buying one place here. Let me quickly add I wasn’t seeking a new job but things came together in such a way that it was undeniable I was called here and it has been a wonderful match. We were clear the real estate market would be difficult. We spent a lot of time trying to wrap our heads around the insanity of the possibility or even likelihood of paying one million dollars for a place to live, if we could even find one – although we did set some limitations. Even though there was no way we could afford to live in the neighborhood of the church, with small 900 square foot houses across the street selling for $1.5 million, I still wanted to live close enough to the church that it didn’t involve a long commute and I could feel part of the community. We also wanted to be a commutable distance to the train station so our adult child could make the 30-minute train ride to his work in La Jolla (a job he could transfer from Denver). And, if possible, live close enough to my husband’s work for him to feasibly walk to work downtown. After 18 months apart, a week after they permanently moved to San Diego, we met with a realtor and later that day went to our first open house – a two-bedroom condo for $900k. Plus HOA. It was a no. Then a two-bedroom townhome. Yes, please, even though it was literally under planes preparing to land. We put in an offer, contingent on the sale of our home in Denver – although I was awake at night horrified at the size of the mortgage on a $950,000 home. The deal they accepted almost fell through several times over the course of several weeks but finally slipped through our fingers for the last time – five minutes after learning our offer on another home wasn’t accepted either. In the meantime, we saw a very small but move-in ready condo for the low, low price of $725k. We debated too long and by the time we got around to making an offer, it was under contract for $780k. Every morning we woke up to see if there were any new possibilities – most days there were no new listings. On several occasions we saw a listing, told our agent we wanted to see it, arranged a time the next day to tour, only to be told it was already gone. So, we learned to submit offers before even seeing the house. We were learning to play the game. We saw one that was quite promising, not exactly in our ideal location but close enough. Our agent arranged for us to see it Friday night before weekend open houses and we brought a full ask offer in hand – trusting only in pictures that turned out not to be quite accurate, but we could still make it work. After all, it was a bargain at $800,000. Plus HOA. We hoped they would take our offer and cancel the open houses. They didn’t and when we came by on Saturday, the house was flooded with potential buyers. We learned they accepted an offer we couldn’t have matched just five minutes before losing the one I mentioned above that we had our heart set on. I wanted to get off this heart-break roller coaster, but what if the right home came open while on our break? We kept looking at the few options as they came up and kept reducing our “must haves.” We saw one that we later discovered was listed on the disclosures as a hazardous waste site, for $925,000! Yet, during the open house, it was filled with people trying to find a home under a million. However, by this point we were in a very good position. We closed on our house in Denver, had enough for a down payment in the bank ready to wire, and were fully underwritten for a mortgage the size of which we hoped we wouldn’t need to use. It was then that our agent sent us to an open house for a condo that had been on the market for 66 days and had dropped in price twice – into our range, though just barely. It would be open Saturday morning at 11 am, but while we were driving there, we got a call that they had pulled it. They had a buyer. Perfect location for our three commutes, two blocks from Balboa Park – high on our wish list. So, we went to the ocean instead, not a bad consolation prize. The next day at church, a woman greeted me after worship and said, “I bought a condo!” I didn’t know she was looking. “Where?” “By Balboa Park.” My heart sank. “975?” She had gone on Zillow, saw a listing, clicked the button to connect to a realtor, and placed an all-cash offer. The sellers accepted, eager to finally sell a property they had vacated months before. She explained she is not moving to San Diego but will use it for the good deal of time she is. As she told the story, we were surrounded by people who had seen pictures and marveled at how beautiful it was. I might have looked crestfallen. Yes, I know. It was the one we were on our way to see the day before. As the group continued to chit chat, a few minutes later, she said, “Why don’t I step aside and let you buy it. My deposit isn’t due until Tuesday. I haven’t put down any money yet.” I may have thought about it for 10 seconds but immediately dismissed it as an idea that could be inappropriate – pastoral ethics and boundaries. She offered a second time. “No, I’d really like to do this.” As people stood watching, I said no again, thanking her for her kindness. She repeated a third time. Well… OK. Let’s at least see if it could work. This is exactly the sort of unusual, but now familiar, thing that has happened in my call to Mission Hills United Church of Christ and our move to San Diego. I was only willing consider it because I know this woman quite well. She is an attorney who lives most of the time in the Bay Area. She frequently comes to San Diego to see friends and family and, when in town, go to church. We’re in Bible Study on Zoom together most weeks, she co-chairs the mission and outreach committee, a meeting I often attend, and we’ve had breakfast together a couple of times. More than perhaps most people, I know what motivates her and by what ideals she aspires to live. She is consistent and I knew she meant it when she said, “I want to step aside for your family.” But, the first thing we had to do was see how high this 3rd floor unit was. Height is an issue and time was of the essence. A decision had to be made before she paid any deposit, due on Tuesday. I immediately left church while people were still milling around so I could pick up my husband and we could look up at the balcony. When I called and explained, he didn’t believe my story, thought I was joking, but he consented to play along. We met the woman outside the condo. The height seemed OK so we called our realtor, who was in Kentucky with his sick mother. He called his associate, who had shown us a $700,000 dorm room on Friday night, to come over and show us the inside. This associate had a 1 pm open house and it was now 12:15, but he could come for 15 minutes. We went inside the unit and looked around while he and the woman talked. He tried to figure out why she would do this because he had to believe her before trying to convince a very-likely skeptical seller’s agent who, as it turned out, wasn’t just skeptical but vehemently opposed. This had to be some kind of deception. No one would step away like this. Fortunately, the agent helping represent us is chair of the San Diego committee who deals with unethical behavior by realtors, so he’s quite attuned to this. The unit is beautiful. Spacious. Huge south facing windows, good for watching planes land. Small balconies off both bedrooms, separated on opposite sides, each with their own bathroom. Parking garage with two spots. And our absolutely preferred location two blocks from the park. Let’s make this work! Our agent got to work and spent 30 minutes trying to persuade the skeptical agent, assuring her of the woman’s motives. Finally, she consented to present it to her buyers. Somewhat confused, they agreed. We also paid over-asking, so they pocketed a little extra money too. Let me stop to praise our agents. Our miracle dream home didn’t just land in our laps. We had dream agents who worked as hard and as fast as they could, and among other things, also had to work out a deal with the agent from Zillow so he wouldn’t lose out. On Monday, the sellers went to lunch with their good friends. They had news. After 66 days on the market, they finally had a deal, except now the buyer wants to step aside for someone else – something about a minister. Their friends looked at them and laughed. “That’s our pastor.” This is all legitimate. It was Sunday night when our realtor contacted our lender. He was at Legoland but returned our call to action immediately. We sorted through all the mortgage options on Monday morning, size of down payment, buying down points, a flurry of paperwork and all the disclosures, etc. And just like that, we were under contract on Tuesday and wired our deposit – the same day the seller would have received the other deposit. One week from closing in Denver. Two years since “We’re not moving to San Diego!” But not so fast. Clergy have regular boundary trainings and this story should raise for us all kinds of red flags. And perhaps even occupy a gray area in the end. Was the person who stepped aside capable of such a decision? Was this done in secret? Would there be any monetary harm or gain? Would the relationship between the pastor and member change or be subject to tension? In between hearing “I’ll step aside for you” three times, I asked these and many other questions. And continued to. Repeatedly and frequently in the middle of the night. Several important points: the woman is a practicing attorney, not a vulnerable adult. This would be a second home and would not displace her. She had not put down any money, though she had paid for an inspection – which we reimbursed. The whole idea came to her, not me, while people stood around listening to it unfold. This is completely in character for her. Will it change the pastoral relationship? When I first moved to San Diego and needed a temporary apartment for 18 months, a member offered to rent me one in a building they owned. I turned it down over possible tenant/landlord complications. What about this time? Perhaps I am rationalizing. Could we have waited and kept looking? Did I want to get off the housing-search roller coaster? Yes, to both. For both clergy looking to buy and churches trying to call a pastor to places with such outrageously high real estate prices and limited options, what are some solutions to a problem that’s only getting worse – not to mention for teachers and nurses and social workers and everyone else. We are extraordinarily fortunate to have owned a home we had lived in long enough to amass funds for a down payment. We have no student loan debt. Our child who lives with us is now a young adult. We are both fortunate enough to be 30 years into our careers. But can we keep paying this mortgage in retirement, because along with HOA fees, utilities, insurance, etc., this will eat up an unbelievable 67% percent of my husband’s and my take-home pay. We toyed with the idea of just renting/leasing instead of buying, but is that wise? I know for many younger people, it is the only option. I have no complaints about my congregation’s generous compensation – but can all churches do this? Will all clergy come with sufficient resources on their own? Of course not. And what does that portend for the church? Some churches with means in Northern California are acting like lenders who own percentages of the homes of their pastors. Holy cow that could be complicated! How can churches of any size recruit good candidates to move to California when it puts the financial futures of their pastors at risk? Might it lead to some good ethical questions – not unethical – in order to find housing? It could. And I would understand. I grew up in North Dakota in a tiny old drafty farm house which in the winter was surrounded by hay bales to insulate and plastic wrap to keep out the snow. There’s something about a pastor with a million-dollar home that seriously creeps me out. And ironically, there could be no greater contrast in my housing situation today from my first church. I lived in a massive run-down 100-year old, four-bedroom, four story parsonage in inner city Cleveland, six feet out the front door of the church. Some commute is a good thing! In an area with plenty of boarded up houses, the owner of one right behind us offered to give their house to the church to get it off their hands. We politely declined. My entire annual salary would have made only three monthly mortgage payments in San Diego! Two at my job at the UCC offices in Washington, DC. But while I sort through all these emotional and ethical issues, here’s the final best thing about this fantastical story: On my candidating weekend at Mission Hills UCC in August 2021, my sisters and brother-in-law were here with me. They went to pick my husband up at the airport. It was his first time in San Diego. He marveled at the beautiful marinas by the airport. It reminded him of Lake Erie and home. As they were driving along he pointed at a small house. How much do you think that is? Probably a million. For that!? Oh boy… The next morning my sister Mona woke to excitedly tell us a dream she had. First of all, however, you need to know: It was because of Mona I was originally in San Diego. I had tickets to visit her in Phoenix for a week in April 2021. A few weeks before, she told me she had to have unexpected surgery and would be in bed with her foot up for 12 weeks. She didn’t want me to simply sit by her bed, so why don’t I go to San Diego to walk the beaches? It all started from there. So, her dream: “One of your church members is going to give you a house!” She was sure of it. I responded that would have to mean someone agrees to sell theirs to us, not give it to us for free. We were both right and her dream came true. It is literally our, or rather her, dream home! I am so grateful to have received such generosity of spirit and hope it inspires more from me to others. And now - off to sign the final closing papers and get the keys. |
AuthorI love being a Archives
April 2024
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