Sermon: “Noticing God in the Ordinary”

INTRODUCTION:  Our Scripture Reading for today is from the Book of Psalms, which “represents the hymnbook or the prayer book of the Second (and perhaps the First) Temple in Jerusalem…  Psalm 46 is fundamentally an affirmation of faith in God; it is often classified as a song of confidence or trust.”

Scripture:  Psalm 46

1 God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
    though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
3 though its waters roar and foam,
    though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
    God will help it when the morning dawns.
6 The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;
    he utters his voice, the earth melts.
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.

8 Come, behold the works of the Lord;
    see what desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
    he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God!
    I am exalted among the nations,
    I am exalted in the earth.”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.

SERMON:  “Noticing God in the Ordinary”

Growing up, I was a somewhat anxious child.  I worried a lot.  Would the school bus be on time? Would my mother remember to pick me up at camp?  If I took off my glasses at the beach to go swimming, would I be able to find my family again when I came out of the water and couldn’t see them from a distance? 

Because of this tendency to worry, my mother taught me to use a technique she called, “worst case scenario” that she hoped would help me teach myself how to alleviate at least some of my anxiety.  You probably know what I’m talking about.  The way this technique works is that the person who feels anxious imagines the worst thing that could possibly happen, then figures out ways to cope if the worst thing actually did happen.  And then, more often than not, the person ends up pleasantly surprised when reality turns out to be MUCH better than what was imagined.  Even if there are some challenges, the person is less anxious and better able to deal with them.  At least that’s the theory.  And, actually, most of the time it worked, though I’m not sure I ever admitted that to my mother.  (Mom, in case you are tapped into this livestream up in heaven, “thank you!”)

But back to our text.  Imagine my surprise this week when I read that the psalmist--the anonymous author of Psalm 46--was using the same technique my mother taught me to help the people of ancient Israel deal with their anxiety when facing the chaos that is sometimes present in our world.  Biblical Scholar Professor J. Clinton McCann, Jr. says, “to illustrate how powerful a help God can be in [times of] trouble, [verses 2 and 3] present the ultimate worst-case scenario.”  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. IV, p. 865.) 

“Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult.”

Professor McCann reminds us that in the ancient near east view of the world, mountains represented stability.  It was thought that mountains BOTH literally served as the foundations of the earth AND acted as pillars that held up the sky.  So, in this worst-case scenario painted by the psalmist, if the mountains shook, then the earth would be “threatened from below by water and from above by the sky falling.”  (ibid., p. 865.)  The Professor asserts that the psalmist’s “worst case” is akin to any contemporary doomsday scenario that we could imagine--from nuclear devastation to extreme climate crisis to deadly pandemics.  It is what Martin Luther talks about in our first hymn, where he describes forces that “threaten to undo us.” 

The good news--the really good news--of Psalm 46 is that even when the worst-case scenario happens-- when human beings experience forces or circumstances that threaten to undo us--we do not have to be afraid.  God is still with us.  Verse one:  “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”  AND, in case we missed it in that verse, the message repeats as a refrain in verses 7 and 11:  “The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.”  And the words “with us” don’t just mean “standing near us” or “in the same room with us.”  The professor tells us that combined with the word “refuge,” they carry the connotation of being “for us”--that is, “inclined toward ‘our help.’”  (ibid., p. 865.)   In Luther’s words, “like a mighty fortress,” God is actively protecting us.

But, this psalm is clear, God’s protection of us is not the same as a human ruler who might protect us through military means.  No.  In this psalm, God is not portrayed as a warrior who swoops in with his angel armies to annihilate our enemies.  Just the opposite, in fact. God “makes wars to cease to the end of the earth; God breaks the bow, and shatters the spear; God burns the shields with fire.”  (verse 9)  In other words, God doesn’t help us to fight back; God uses the force of Love to protect us and give us a refuge of calm in the midst of chaos.  And, almost counter-intuitively, as we begin to experience that refuge of calm, we actually begin to have a calming effect of the chaos swirling around us.

“But,” you might be asking, “How exactly does God do that?”  Or to put another way, “How do we gain access to the refuge that God provides?”

That is where Richard Peace comes in.  In chapter 3 of his book--the chapter that is entitled, “Noticing God in the Ordinary,” Peace talks about what he calls the “spiritual discipline of noticing.”  His premise is that God is always present, but we need to train ourselves to notice God in the midst of our ordinary days.  We need to look for ways that God’s Love shows up, particularly when we need it most. 

Peace outlines a practice created in the 16th century by St. Ignatius of Loyola, the Spanish nobleman turned monk who founded the Jesuit movement of the Catholic Church.  St. Ignatius practiced a type  of prayer called “the examination of conscience” or “the  prayer of examen” for short.  With the help of a spiritual director, Peace adapted this practice to make it doable in our modern-day world.  You can read in detail about the prayer of examen in chapter 3 of Peace’s book, if you are interested, but in short, the practice is taking time each day to reflect on the past 24 hours and to notice where we felt that God showed up for us. 

The practice begins with gratitude.  One way to engage in this practice is by keeping a journal.  (I do this these days on my phone…)  Write down at least 5 things you are thankful for in the past 24 hours.  And then, when the gratitude has opened your heart, then go back over the same 24-hour period and look for ways God has been present.  And the more we do this, the more we notice God in the ordinary moments of our lives.   At first, we notice God in the things we are thankful for:  the gift of a fun time spent with a grandchild; the gift of a beautiful day.   Then, we begin to notice God in other places too.  In the “hard times” as well as the “joyous moments.”

I think Psalm 46 is making the same point.  In the hard times, when we feel like the mountains are shaking around us, when the waters roar and foam and our society is in an uproar, we can take this opportunity to be still and look and listen for God.  This psalm invites us to notice the times and places where God has shown up for us as a refuge in the midst of pain--our pain or someone else’s.  For example, when someone texted us a prayer while we were waiting for the results of a Covid test.  When someone reached out to us in our grief and reminded us of a joyful memory of a loved one who has died.  When our pain of being hurt by dysfunctional systems in this pandemic gave us insight into the pain of our black brothers and sisters who have been hurt by dysfunctional systems for centuries.  May we practice the habit of noticing instances of God’s love-- not just in times when we are comfortable, but even in the midst of the pain.  

May we hold in our hearts the words of this psalm as we practice the spiritual discipline of noticing God in the midst of ordinary life:   “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Amen.” 

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

Sermon: “Noticing God in Mystical Encounters”

INTRODUCTION:  Today’s Scripture reading is the story of the “Transfiguration,” where three of the disciples have what we could call a “mystical encounter” or “spiritual experience” that has a profound effect on their faith.  As we listen to the description of their experience, may we find ourselves more open to the various ways we may encounter God in our own lives.

SCRIPTURE:  Mark 9:2-9

2 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

9 As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. 

SERMON:  “Noticing God in Mystical Encounters”

There is a wonderful walking trail that loops through the woods near our house in Beverly, Massachusetts.  I like this trail because if I time it right, in the morning, the dog and I emerge from the woods, pass through a stand of sumac, and turn east into a meadow just as the sun is rising over the treetops and everything is bathed in gorgeous, golden light.  It is like walking into a painting by Van Gough.  (I am sure you know the kind of vista I’m talking about—you have many beautiful walking trails here in Franklin, too.)

I remember one winter’s morning a few years ago when we had about 3 or 4 inches of snow, snow that had melted a little bit during the day and refrozen at night, so in the morning, it had kind of a thin, shimmery crust on top.  You know, the kind crust that is like the glaze on a candied apple—it crunches nicely when you step on it.  (Not that I’ve stepped on that many candied apples… But I digress…)  On that morning, when the dog and I had emerged from the woods, we passed through the stand of sumac and turned east as usual, right when the sun had cleared the tops of the trees and was blazing across the snow-covered meadow.  Brilliant sunlight reflected off the crusty snow, turning everything a dazzling white.  It was so bright, I had to stop and shield my eyes for a moment; I couldn’t even move.  Even the dog stopped for a moment in her tracks—too stunned by the light to even sniff.  It felt like a holy moment.

I wonder if this was a little bit like what Peter and John and James experienced when they went up the mountain with Jesus to pray, and he was transfigured before them.   Our reading from the Gospel of Mark tells us that “…his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.”  Another Gospel account of this event adds to this description by saying that Jesus’ “face shone like the sun,” which, interestingly enough, are the same words used to describe the face of Moses after he had met with God on a similar mountain where he received the 10 commandments.

But back to Peter, James, and John.  When the glory of this Heavenly Light hit them, I wonder if the disciples had to stop and shield their eyes.  I wonder if they were momentarily too stunned by the radiance of Jesus’ countenance to even breathe or move.  And then, when they uncovered their eyes, did they have to squint against the brilliance?  Did they wonder, at first, whether the light was playing tricks on them--or were they actually seeing something supernatural?  But then Moses and Elijah appear.  And then they all hear the voice of God.  There was no doubt then:  this was a true, mystical encounter.  In other words, it was a spiritual experience that defies description, that comes unbidden upon the recipient, that lasts but a moment, but leaves profound insight that changes the course of a person’s life.  This definition of a mystical encounter is based on the work of philosopher William James, and can be found in Richard Peace’s book, chapter 1, if you are looking for more information.  (Peace, page 25.)  

But back to our Scripture text:  stunned, awestruck and terrified, after seeing the shining face of Christ and the apparitions of Moses and Elijah, James and John keep quiet, but Peter begins to babble.  He says something like, “Lord, wow, it’s great we could be here!  If you want me to, I could put up three shelters, build some memorials here for you and Moses and Elijah.” 

Peter is so human, isn’t he?  Overwhelmed by the glory of God, which defies description or comprehension, he turns to what he knows; he tries to scramble back into his comfort zone.  As a fisherman, he’s always been a hands-on kind of guy.  He knows how to haul in fish, how to mend a net, how to handle a boat in bad weather.  I’m sure he’s even handy on land—no doubt he could build a shelter, construct a memorial, no problem.  Can’t we just see the way his mind works?  Rather than focusing on the spiritual brilliance in front of him, which, frankly, is way more than he can even begin to wrap his mind around, Peter starts focusing on something he can understand.  He starts planning a building project—something familiar and comforting.

Do we ever do this?  At home or in church?  Do we ever begin to feel the spiritual presence of God in a way that defies description, and, then, frankly, we just get a little freaked out by it?  We experience both the awe and the fear that come with a mystical encounter, but then, ultimately, the fear gets the best of us.  However, unlike Peter and James and John, our fear may be less about actually experiencing the presence of the supernatural—our fear may have more to do with worrying about what other people will think of us if we tell them what happened. 

In his book, Noticing God, Richard Peace cites a research study that was done in 1976 by the University of Chicago that looked into mystical encounters.  Surprisingly, a large percentage of Americans in the study—35%--reported having a life-altering, mystical encounter.  When the same study was repeated 40 years later, the percentage had gone up to 50%.  But the most interesting part of the study, to me, was that “the study revealed that few of these people talked about their experience with others even though they regarded this as the most valuable or among the most significant experiences they had ever had.  They feared they would not be believed.”  [Noticing God, p. 25]

I can’t tell you how many times, as a pastor, someone has said to me, “You may think I’m crazy, but…” and then they tell me about a very moving spiritual encounter they had that had a huge impact on their lives.  I always feel very privileged and honored when someone shares their story of such an experience with me—because I know people are reticent to share such things.  Like the researchers found, people often do not share their spiritual stories even with their fellow church members because they are afraid they might be judged.

Now, hear me, I’m not saying that every odd or freaky thing that we human beings experience is always a mystical encounter with God.  Sometimes odd and freaky things happen to us if we take too much medication—or not enough-- or drink too much wine or have an illness that affects our brain.  All I’m saying is that sometimes the unexplainable experiences we have are from God, and we should not automatically discount them—for ourselves or others.  We should allow our true mystical encounters to inspire our own lives—and the lives of others. 

Richard Peace divides mystical encounters into a few different categories, including “the dramatic” and “the mundane.”  [Noticing God, p. 26]  The dramatic encounters, he says, are fairly rare.  We may experience one or two in our lives—or, perhaps none at all.  One type of mundane encounter, however, what Peace calls “brushes with God” can happen quite often—and the more we are aware of them, the more we realize that God is present everywhere.   Let me quote that paragraph in the book:

In fact, this touch of the Divine seems to come at those times when life shifts out of the normal for a moment:  when we are in pain or we experience great pleasure, when we are listening to music that makes us catch our breath or we are viewing great art that touches our souls.  There is such an array of these kinds of moments:  canoeing at dawn on a New Hampshire lake; standing in front of the great cathedral in Orvieto, Italy, in the late afternoon when the sun makes the façade sparkle and come alive; singing “the Church’s One Foundation” with a vast congregation caught up in this great hymn; catching a glimpse off to one side of something familiar that for a moment becomes new.  The world is, indeed, alive with God. [Noticing God, p. 30]

It is my hope that each of us, beginning today, will be more aware of the Presence of God in mystical encounters—whether dramatic or mundane.  And may we not be afraid to share the stories of our encounters with one another—here at church—and out beyond these 4 walls.  (In fact, feel free, if you wish, to bring a story today to share at our virtual coffee hour.) 

Pastor Mark Batterson says that when we share our stories, we let others “borrow our faith.”  And, when we listen to someone else’s story, “we get to borrow theirs.”  Either way, Batterson says, “the church is edified and God is glorified.” 

May we take the risk to share our experiences of God’s presence, that our faith may be strengthened and our joy may be shared.  Let me offer a prayer that’s based on a prayer by Ruth Duck, from a book called Touch Holiness, edited by Maren Tirabassi:

God of mystery, we thank you that you make yourself known to us.

Peter, James, and John saw you in Jesus when he was transfigured and shone as bright as the sun. 

Your people at Pentecost knew your Spirit had come near, descending in tongues of flame. 

We yearn, mysterious God, for clear signs of your presence, for amazing, spiritual experiences and not just faint glimmers. 

We would like to live by certain knowledge and not by faith. 

Yet we know that the faithful have gone out trusting in you,

not knowing where you were leading,

and that we too must live in faith. 

Teach us to notice your presence more and more. 

Take our hands and stay beside us,

that we may follow your will as far as we understand it. 

Heal our sorrows; calm our fears; set us on sure paths. 

Help us to be your people indeed, through the presence, the word, and the example of Jesus, in whose name we pray, Amen. 

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

[An earlier version of this sermon was written and preached by Marlayna in February, 2018. ]

Sermon: “How Do We Notice the Presence of God?”

INTRODUCTION:  Our first reading today is from the Hebrew Scriptures, the 29th chapter of the book of Jeremiah, verses 12 through 14.  I’ll be reading from a modern-language version of the Bible called The Message, which phrases things in ways that catch our attention.  Let us listen for God’s Spirit speaking through these words.

Scripture:  Jeremiah 29:12-14

God says, ” When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen.  When you come looking for me, you’ll find me.  Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed…” 

INTRODUCTION:  Our second reading today is from the New Testament Book of Acts, where the Apostle Paul is preaching outside on a hill in Athens, Greece on the site where the judicial court met.  In his famous hillside sermon, Paul invites people to notice the statues around them and consider whether or not they believe that God is more than just a statue.

Scripture:  Acts 17:22-28 

So Paul took his stand in the open space at the Areopagus and laid it out for them. “It is plain to see that you Athenians take your religion seriously. When I arrived here the other day, I was fascinated with all the shrines I came across. And then I found one inscribed, ‘to the god nobody knows.’ I’m here to introduce you to this God so you can worship intelligently, know who you’re dealing with.

 “The God who made the world and everything in it, this Master of sky and land, doesn’t live in custom-made shrines or need the human race to run errands for him, as if he couldn’t take care of himself. He makes the creatures; the creatures don’t make him. Starting from scratch, he made the entire human race and made the earth hospitable, with plenty of time and space for living so we could seek after God, and not just fumble around in the dark but actually find him. He doesn’t play hide-and-seek with us. He’s not remote; he’s near. We live and move in him, can’t get away from him! One of your poets said it well: ‘We’re the God-created.’ 

Sermon:  “How Do We Notice the Presence of God?” 

Today, I’m beginning a sermon series on the topic “Noticing God,” a series based on a book of that same title by Richard Peace.  Richard Peace is a retired seminary professor and member of a UCC church on the North Shore here in Massachusetts.    

 In the introduction to this book, Professor Peace quotes another professor, a famous theologian and philosopher from Princeton, who says the following:

In spite of my religious faith, the ability to preach sermons and to give lectures that were as good (or bad) as those of the next person, most of the time God seemed remote.  Although I had a doctorate in philosophy and theology, and had read a lot of books, I did not know what it meant to have an awareness of God in daily life, or how one went about achieving it.  How was it that in all my church attendance and advanced education I had not learned such an elementary matter?...[M]y condition would have been easily recognizable by anyone familiar with spiritual theology, a branch of theology that has been neglected in recent times.  My condition is called a desire for God’s “habitual presence.”  (Diogenes Allen quoted in Noticing God, p. 13)

A desire for God’s habitual presence—or for noticing God in every day life—we know what that feeling is like, don’t we?  I dare say that our desire for God’s presence in our daily lives is a big part of why we are participating in this livestream.  In our culture, on Sunday mornings, there are A LOT of other things we could be doing:  sleeping late, going out to brunch (or getting take-out brunch, in this pandemic), attending a sporting event, painting our living room, catching up on reading—just to name a few.  And all of these are good things, in and of themselves.  They are things most of us enjoy and engage in from time to time.  Nothing wrong with that.  But we are here this morning--or watching this worship video later in the week-- because we have each recognized that there is something that we value even more than spending our “free time” engaging in leisure activities or home improvement projects.    

We have recognized, as Richard Peace puts it, that human beings are created by God to “inhabit two worlds”--the physical AND the spiritual.  Or, as our second Scripture Reading from Acts says, in God “we live and move” and exist.  We are not separate from God, but deeply connected.    

But here’s the thing.  Despite being created by God to inhabit two worlds—the physical and the spiritual—the spiritual world takes a lot more effort for most of us to notice.  Perhaps because in our culture, in general, we are not taught HOW to engage with the spiritual world.  From the moment we are born, the focus in our culture is on how to survive in the physical world.  We are taught how to feed and dress and clean ourselves, how to read and write and make a living—and thank God we can and do learn these things!  These skills are necessary for our survival!  But unless our parents bring us to church and Sunday School, unless we are brought up on the great stories of faith or are taught HOW to pray or meditate or do yoga, we may miss out completely—like Princeton Professor Peace quotes at the beginning of his book--we may miss out on learning HOW to notice God in our daily lives. 

In fact, many of us, in our culture, are so UNtrained in how to notice God, that the skeptical side of us may even question God’s existence.  Or think that God is trying to be obtuse, trying to hide from us.  That couldn’t be further from the truth. 

God is not trying to hide.  It’s that we haven’t trained our eyes—or our hearts—how to see him.  (or her.) 

Those of you who have glasses and are near sighted—like me—do you remember when you first got glasses?  What the experience was like?  I do.  I was in 6th grade, and my next-door neighbor, Jonathan, and I got glasses around the same time.  I remember his amazed, joy-filled reaction when he got his glasses and ran over to tell me about them.  “Marlayna, Marlayna, the trees have leaves!!”  For years my friend had simply assumed that trees were fuzzy blobs and he had never stopped to think where leaves came from in the fall.  Now he knew!  Learning how to notice God is like getting glasses for the first time and realizing that what we always thought was fuzzy actually has a shape and substance.  We just don’t know how to see it.

Another analogy.  I remember learning somewhere, ages ago, when I was a kid, that the chickadee was the state bird of Massachusetts.  I remember thinking at the time that the chickadee was a stupid choice, because I had never seen a chickadee and I had lived in Massachusetts my whole life.  (Now, if the state bird had been a seagull or a pigeon, that would have made sense to me, because I was always seeing those.)  But then, twenty years or so ago, my husband Paul gave me a “bird clock” for Christmas.  From LLBean. It’s the kind of clock that, instead of ringing each hour, it tweets--in the original sense of the word:  each hour is a different bird call.  I remember hearing the chickadee call—8 o’clock—for the first time.  “So that’s what a chickadee sounds like!” I thought to myself.  And then, wouldn’t you know it, later that year when I was out walking the dog, I started hearing chickadees everywhere!  (I started hearing other birds too, 7 o’clock, 9 o’clock, 5 o’clock, but I couldn’t come up with their names…)  It’s not like all those birds suddenly appeared when I got the clock; it’s that I didn’t know enough to notice them before…

One more analogy.  You remember radios?  You know, the things we used to use to listen to music before we got computers and cell phones?  Maybe you still use them sometimes in your car?  Well, in order for a radio to work, we have to turn it on.  Duh!  And more than that, we have to tune in to a channel.  If we don’t tune in to a channel, what do we hear?  Nothing.  Static.  It’s not that the radio waves aren’t there; we just don’t hear music or the news until we are on the right wavelength.  We have to be tuned in to notice and hear what is said.  I think that’s what our first scripture reading is getting at:  “God says…When you come looking for me, you’ll find me.”  In other words, we have to do something—we have to open our hearts, our ears, our eyes, our minds--to be receptive.

Now, you may be wondering, “How do we do this?  How do we open our hearts, ears, eyes, minds?  How do we tune in and notice God?”  Well, each Sunday in this sermon series—I am going to talk about a different way we can notice God.  And it is my hope that our eyes and ears and minds and hearts can get more and more tuned in to God’s wavelength.  I hope that together we can deepen our faith and spirituality and let God transform us for the better.  May it be so. 

Let me offer a prayer*: 

Creator God,

It is in our lives that we become aware of your life.

It is in the rhythms of our world

That we hear your pulse, your breathing, your footsteps.

Over these past several months when we haven’t been able to physically gather for worship in our beautiful church building,

we have come to realize something very important:

that you are NOT contained in the sanctuaries we build for you; Your sanctuary is the whole world

that you have made. 

We can find you anywhere and everywhere--

On the sidewalks we pass,

The highways we travel,

The rooms in which we live,

The sky and the sea and the land which embrace us

And tickle our senses,

Even on websites we surf and apps we download.   

But even more than this we can find you

In the eyes we meet, the hands we hold,

The person looking back at us in the Zoom window,

The human stories that we hear and tell…

We thank you for your loving presence, give us the grace to notice you more and more everywhere we look.  Amen. 

*prayer adapted from a prayer found in Touch Holiness

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

Sermon: “Love Your Enemies”

INTRODUCTION:  Our Scripture Reading today is part of Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount” where he gives practical advice to his disciples and the crowds regarding how to live out their faith.  I will be reading this passage from a paraphrase of the Bible that translates the text into contemporary language, which can help us understand more clearly the meaning of the words.  May God’s Spirit guide us as we hear and learn together.

Scripture:  Matthew 5:43-48 (The Message)  

[Jesus said] "You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best-the sun to warm and the rain to nourish-to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.  In a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you."

Sermon: “Love Your Enemies”

People do not always treat each other well.  And I’m not just talking about people we’ve seen on the news lately.  In interpersonal relationships, people can behave in ways that are selfish, disrespectful, destructive.  Neighbors can rant and then defriend us on Facebook because of our political views; vindictive ex-spouses can use the kids as a bargaining chip in order to get what they want; greedy employers can make ridiculous profits for themselves on the backs of their hard-working, low paid employees.   

In situations like these, the antagonism in the relationship can rise to the point where we begin to think of the other person as our enemy.  In such a situation, how should we behave?  Or, to put it in a Christian framework—what would Jesus want us to do? 

Today’s Scripture offers some guidance that might help us answer that question.  Jesus says, “…love your enemies.  Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst.”

It sounds good, doesn’t it?  But it raises a lot of questions.  First of all the question, “How do we define “enemy”?” 

The dictionary defines the term enemy on two levels: 

1)    On an interpersonal level:  An enemy is “a person who engages in antagonistic activities against another…”

2)    On an international level:  An enemy is “a hostile nation or state.”

When Jesus uses the term enemy, he does not actually define it, but from the context of the rest of the chapter-- when he talks about turning the other cheek, going the extra mile-- it’s clear that he is talking on an interpersonal level, not an international one.  He is talking about situations where one person engages in antagonistic activities against another and thus could be called a personal “enemy,” and he gives guidance regarding how one should respond in a way that de-escalates such enemy behavior.

Now, over the centuries, I know preachers and theologians have looked at this passage and have extrapolated the guidance Jesus gives for dealing with a personal enemy to interactions within and between nations.  And, while much can be learned from such expanded thinking, it is important, first, to understand--and practice--how Jesus wants us to deal with our own personal enemies before we start theorizing about how we should behave on a national or international level.  Because unless we master how to deal effectively on an interpersonal level with the individuals who oppose us, there is no way we will be able to master how to deal effectively on a national or international level with opposing parties or enemies of state. 

So, this sermon will focus on the level of interpersonal interactions: how do we love our enemies?  Maybe it’s the neighbor who gossips about us, the boss who devalues our work, the relative who sees us only through a lens of criticism, the stranger who cuts us off in traffic.  How do we let them, in the words of our scripture, “bring out the best in us, not the worst”? 

The next line in the scripture gives us practical advice on how to do just that:  “When someone gives you a hard time,” says Jesus, “respond with the energies of prayer.” 

Rather than reacting negatively, say, with a sharp tongue, a withering look, an improper hand gesture, Jesus tells us, channel your energy into something positive—start with prayer.

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. says it this way, if we want to love our enemies, we need to “begin by looking at ourselves.”  In a sermon preached in Alabama back in 1957, Rev. Dr. King graciously suggests that maybe it’s because we’re so focused, as Jesus says elsewhere in scripture, on the little speck in our brother’s eye, that we totally miss the huge plank in our own.  We need to remove the plank from our own eye first, King says, and recognize “that within the best of us there is some evil, and within the worst of us, there is some good.”  (MLK in a sermon Delivered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, Montgomery, Alabama, on 17 November 1957.) 

Rev. Dr. King’s words are even more powerful when we realize that he was preaching in the South at a time when Jim Crow laws were in place that kept black people segregated, barred the vast majority of black people from voting, severely limited their opportunities to go to college, and stopped them from holding decent-paying jobs or even obtaining loans to buy houses.  And when blacks dared to protest such blatantly unfair practices, they were often beaten, arrested, and even killed.  Rev. Dr. King had every right to see white people as his enemy--and the enemy of all black people--and to hate them for it, but he didn’t.  He advised his black brothers and sisters in Christ to look at themselves and recognize their own flawed humanity before they saw the flawed humanity of the whites around them and    called them to account   for their behavior.

Wow!  If Rev. Dr. King could advise his community--who were in such a position of vulnerability in society-- to love their enemies, then how much more should we, as white people of privilege, do the same?  When we prayerfully make an honest assessment of ourselves, seeing our flaws as well as our strengths, then we also can begin to make an honest assessment of our enemies, whomever we deem them to be, seeing their strengths as well as their flaws, understanding that they too are human beings, not so very different from us.  If we take this perspective, loving them becomes a little bit easier.

But the question still remains, “Why?  Why should we expend any energy praying for or loving our enemies?  Isn’t it just a pious waste of time?”  The truth is, “No, it’s not a waste.”  In fact, the only force strong enough to quench hatred is love.  We’ve seen this played out in our own lives, time and time again, haven’t we?  Think back on the arguments you’ve had with people.  Think about the arguments that have ended well, that have led to reconciliation.  I dare say that those are NOT the arguments where our main strategy has been reciting all of the faults of the other person or saying the meanest things we can think of in order to hurt them as much as they have hurt us.  (Not that any of us have ever had any arguments like that… J.)   

The arguments that end well are the ones where we stop and take a deep breath and pray and say with as much humility and honesty as we can muster, “Maybe I’m not seeing the whole picture here.  Maybe I’m at least partially wrong.  Can you tell me why you believe what you believe?”  By the grace of God, if we can say something like that to someone who is giving us a hard time, we go a long way toward diffusing the situation--and preparing the way for an honest discussion where we can each be heard, facts can come to light, and reconciliation can potentially begin.  We also go a long way toward centering our own selves in the Peace of Christ (and saving ourselves from stomach ulcers.)

But Jesus doesn’t say, “Love your enemies” just so we that we can live at peace with our neighbors or save ourselves from ulcers—though, both of those are certainly good outcomes.  More importantly, Jesus says to love our enemies because “This is what God does.  God gives God’s best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless:  the good and bad, the nice and nasty.”  If this is what God does, and if our highest goal is to follow in God’s way, then why would we want to do anything else? 

Our scripture says it like this, “You’re kingdom subjects.  Now live like it.  Live out your God-created identity.  Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.” 

Let me close with an example.  Many, many years ago, in a church far, far away, I was once engaged in what felt like a battle of cosmic proportions with the Superintendent of Sunday School.  To summarize, she and I completely disagreed as to whether or not it was appropriate for a certain individual to teach the junior high Sunday school class. 

We couldn’t come to an agreement between us, so I scheduled a meeting with the Pastoral Relations Committee, the group in the church that helped facilitate dialogue and brainstorm solutions.  I invited her to come.  Well, I confess that I came to that meeting loaded for bear.  Not only had I prepared a well-thought out, logical argument as to why I was right and she was wrong, I was also bristling with anger and negative energy.  But here’s what happened.  When the meeting started, before I even got a chance to lay out my argument or vent my anger, the Superintendent of Sunday School, the woman I had come to view mainly as an enemy, led off by saying something like this, “I’ve been thinking and praying a lot about this.  I decided to give Rev. Marlayna the benefit of the doubt because she is my sister in Christ.” 

My jaw dropped when she said that, and all the angry wind went out of my sails.  I was surprised, amazed, and embarrassed at her incredibly gracious response—embarrassed because up until that point it had not occurred to me to be nearly as gracious. 

What would our world be like if everyone prayerfully practiced this kind of generous graciousness?  I dare say it would be a world where most of us would want to live.  As our country--our world--becomes more and more divided, can we be the ones to model the gracious love that is the only force that can free us from division?  And let me be clear, being gracious does not mean being silent when we witness injustice.  It means asking questions from a stance of humility and being clear about our own positions without  allowing ourselves to use the same hate-filled speech as those who may stand against us. 

May God give us the grace and strength to live out the words of Jesus:  “to let our enemies bring out the best in us and not the worst.”  Amen.

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA 

[Earlier versions of this sermon were written, edited and preached by Marlayna on 2/22/15 and 1/20/19]

Sermon: "Baptism: A New Beginning"

INTRODUCTION:  Today’s Scripture is traditionally read on the Sunday after Epiphany.  It is the story of Jesus’ baptism, which takes place in the wilderness around the Jordan River.  Jesus’ baptism marks a huge turning point in his life--he leaves his old life behind and begins a new chapter where his focus becomes sharing the Good News of God’s Kingdom.  As we hear these words and picture this scene, may we consider what God is calling us to leave behind as we begin a new year trusting in God’s guidance. 

Scripture:  Mark 1:4-11

                4 John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

          9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Sermon:  “Baptism:  A New Beginning”

Before I start this sermon, I just want to remind you again to have a bowl of water on hand for a renewal of baptismal vows that is happening right after the sermon.

PRAY

Over the years, I have Googled the word “wilderness,” and I always get very interesting results—an odd conglomeration of things.  My favorite results have included:  Wilderness Resort Hotel and Waterpark in Wisconsin; a podcast about the Democratic Party, and reviews of a British horror movie with Wilderness in the title. 

I don’t think any of these things were what the writer of today’s Scripture had in mind when the text says that John the Baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sins. 

Clearly, the wilderness reference in Mark’s gospel refers to the traditional understanding of wilderness as defined by Merriam-Webster: “a tract or region uncultivated and uninhabited by human beings...”  In fact, throughout the scriptures, the word “wilderness” has at least two levels of meaning:  1) it refers to the literal areas where human beings do not live or cultivate, and it also 2) refers symbolically to the areas of our lives that are in chaos outside our control--which I dare say is what many of us have been feeling a lot lately--but I will get to that later.  Let me stick with the text for a while…

When John the Baptizer appears in the wilderness outside of Jerusalem, he is literally out there with the rocks and shrubs and snakes and locusts and lions.  But the people hearing this scripture in the first century would also understand that symbolically it meant that meant John was out there with our fears and anxieties, worries and heartaches—all those things that wake us up in the middle of the night and infringe on our peace of mind.  John is out there—way out there—in the middle of a frightening chaos that most human beings would prefer to avoid. 

But here is an amazing thing:  when John goes out into the wilderness—in the tradition of the prophets of old, wearing camel’s hair, eating locusts and wild honey-- people actually choose to follow him.  They choose to follow him out to a place where they come face to face with their own fears and anxieties, worries and heartaches.  And not only do they come to face them, which is hard enough, but John asks them to go one step further and repent, that is, acknowledge their own part in these things and promise to make a new beginning. 

Now hear me, John isn’t asking people to accept responsibility for ALL the chaos in the world or lives.  No.  That would not be fair.  That would not be loving.  That would not be honest—because no one is powerful enough to cause ALL the chaos around them.  John is simply asking people to acknowledge—to own-- before God whatever their part is in such things—great or small. 

I wonder if we are at a similar place in our lives today?  Anyone who has watched the news this week can attest that our country is experiencing chaos like we’ve never witnessed before.  Regardless of our political party affiliations, watching a mob of angry people storm the Capital building in Washington and interfere with our Democracy was frightening, to say the least.  Frightening most of all to the families of the 5 people who lost their lives in the midst of the violence.  But frightening to almost everyone:  to the members of congress trying to do their jobs; to the Capital Police, who “didn’t have the outside support they needed” and “failed to do their mission”1; to journalists who were there to cover a session of congress and ended up fearing for their lives2; and to the rest of us:  people at home watching on TV who saw violence and vandalism unfold and were powerless to stop it--and who worry that we haven’t seen the last of it, because the root causes of the violence and unrest have not gone away. 

There are still political leaders and millions of citizens who truly believe the fraudulent claim that the election was stolen.  But worse than that, this mistaken belief is part of growing trend of people basing their beliefs and actions NOT on verifiable facts but on opinions masquerading as truth, opinions promulgated by people with agendas that feed their own power.3  And the result of this trend is that people are misled into acting in ways that ultimately hurt our whole society, but particularly deepen the pain of the poor and marginalized.  Because it’s always the people with the least power in a society who are hurt the most by false narratives.  In our society the people hurt the most are people with black and brown skin and, to a lesser extent, poor whites.  But, make no mistake, ALL of us are hurt--because we are all connected to each other.

So what can we do about this trend, which lands us in the wilderness of chaos and pain?  Our Scripture can guide us:  we can follow John the Baptist’s lead and bravely walk into the wilderness, bravely face the chaos.  And name it.  And name our part in it.  We can name the pain we experience and we can name our part in the things that cause the pain.  Maybe we haven’t succumbed to belief in opinions masquerading as truth, but maybe we’ve kept our mouths shut too often when we’ve heard others knowingly or unknowingly spread falsehoods, maybe because we haven’t wanted to be disrespectful or hurt someone’s feelings or cause a rift in the family.  OR maybe we haven’t kept quiet, but rather, in our frustration, we’ve proclaimed the facts so loudly and angrily that the people we are trying to reach have stopped listening--and refuse to engage with us.  And when this happens, not only do people stop hearing us, but we stop hearing them.  We stop hearing each other’s pain.  We stop seeing each other’s humanity. 

So what can we do?  We can name the pain and chaos of the wilderness we are currently in.  We can name our part in that pain.  And we can listen to others as they name theirs.  And then, we can remember our baptism.  Baptism.  The word literally means “to sink.”  In today’s Scripture reading John invites the people to sink themselves down into the flowing water of the River Jordan and allow the Spirit of God to wash away the effects of all the painful chaos they’ve been experiencing. 

The early church (started by the disciples of Jesus in the first century) actually saw baptism as a symbolic death and rebirth.  They saw it as death to the power of the wilderness and all its chaos—and rebirth to the power of God’s Loving Spirit to renew and refresh people’s lives. 

It’s like taking part in the annual Polar Plunge on New Year’s Day.  (You know, when people put on bathing suits and rush into--and out of--the cold water of a lake or ocean.)  Maybe you’ve done it?  Or witnessed it?  I’ve never done it, but I’ve watched it on a beach near my house.  The amazing thing to me about this event is that the participants are always smiling, no matter how cold it is.  And not just smiling, but whooping and hollering and running out of the water raising their hands in the air like athletes who have just won some kind of championship.  Whether we participate in person or just watch the Polar Plunge on video:  everyone who runs out of the water on New Year’s Day is full of glee—caught up in the spirit of joy and celebration and new beginnings.

I think this is what it was like for the people who were baptized by John in the wilderness in the Judean countryside.  They faced the chaos in their lives, owned up to their own part in it, and then took the plunge of baptism, rising up to renewed life.  And they rose up with great joy, like Jesus did, to the voice of God speaking to their hearts, saying, “You are my child, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.” 

In baptism God says to us, each of us, in effect:  “The chaos in your life does not have to define you.  I am with you.  Center yourself in my love, and I will not let the chaos sweep you away.” 

It is not a coincidence that this reading about baptism comes every year at the beginning of January.  It’s a reminder that, regardless of the chaos we may have experienced in the year before, God is still with us.  As Rev. Esther Rendon-Thompson reminded us a couple of weeks ago in her sermon, even in a year like 2020 with all the chaos and loss it contained, we can still experience the blessings of God.  God can help us to leave the difficulties of the past behind and move into a new year—consciously choosing to count our blessings--and to BE a blessing, centered in the Love of God who calls us to reflect God’s love to all our neighbors.

So, I thought I would invite anyone who wants to-- to participate in a renewal of Baptism ceremony.  No pressure.  If you don’t want to participate, feel free to just stay prayerfully where you are and know that God’s love is with you.

But, if you’d like to participate, here’s what I ask you to do.

In a moment, I am going to read the questions on the screen, and I invite you to read the responses. 

And, as you read, I invite you to think about what you would like to leave behind from the past year.

After the questions, I will invite you to dip your hand into the bowl of water and place some water in the middle of your forehead, as a reminder of your baptism.  And if you haven’t yet been baptized, please still feel free to participate, as I am sure Jesus would want you to be included.

RENEWAL OF BAPTISMAL VOWS

Pastor:    Do you desire to be baptized into the faith and family of Jesus Christ?

All:         I do.

Pastor:    Do you renounce the powers of evil and desire the freedom of new life in Christ?

All:         I do.

Pastor:    Do you profess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior?

All:         I do.

Pastor:    Do you promise, by the grace of God, to be Christ’s disciple, to follow in the way of our Savior, to resist oppression and evil, to show love and justice, and to witness to the work and word of Jesus Christ as best you are able? 

All:         I promise, with the help of God.

Pastor:    Do you promise, according to the grace given you, to grow in the Christian faith and to be a faithful member of the church of Jesus Christ, celebrating Christ’s presence and furthering Christ’s mission in all the world?

All:         I promise, with the help of God. 

Pastor:          I now invite you to dip your hand into the bowl of water and place some water on your forehead as a reminder of your baptism.  Let us pray…

O God, for your Loving Spirit, we give you thanks.  We thank you that you meet us even in the wilderness of our lives—and of the world.  We boldly ask that you free us from the tangled cords that bind us to the chaos of our past.  Forgive us our part in the chaos, whatever that may be, and give us grace and strength to start anew, loving our neighbors as ourselves.  In Jesus’ name, we pray and act.  Amen. 

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA 

1 Seth Moulton quoted in Boston Globe Editorial, Saturday, January 9th, 2021, p. A8.

2 From NPR discussion on January 8th or 9th, 2021 with female journalists who were present at the Capital Building when the insurrectionists stormed it. (I can’t remember which program I was listening to)

3 My observations/theory stated here was informed by this article:  “The information ecosystem that led to the Capitol attack” by Claire Wardle, Boston Globe, Saturday, January 9th, 2021, p. A8

[An earlier version of this sermon was written and preached by Marlayna on January 13, 2019]

Sermon: “The Gift of the Magi” written by Edward Hays

INTRODUCTION WRITTEN BY MARLAYNA:

Today I am going to recite a story written by Edward Hays entitled “The Gift of the Magi.”  It is a fictional account based on verse 12 of today’s scripture reading that tells us that the 3 wisemen or kings went home by another, “different” road.  Hays’ story is a deep reflection on what going home by another, “different” road could have meant to the wisemen, and, by extension, could mean in our lives today. 

I often tell or recite stories instead of preaching traditional sermons because our faith is based in story-telling.  Jesus’ primary means of “preaching” was telling stories.   Stories engage both our intellect and our emotions.  They stick with us and work on us during the week.  It is my hope that this story by Hays can move us to a deeper understanding and more faithful response to our Scripture reading.  May the Spirit speak through these words. 

“The Gift of the Magi” written by Edward Hays

Once upon a time three kings from the East made a star guided journey, carrying with them three gifts.  Their gifts are perhaps the most famous in all history:  gold, myrrh, and frankincense.  After they had presented them to the mysterious infant king lying in the stable where the star had led them, they returned home by a different route.  As the three kings traveled homeward, each carried a souvenir of his star-journey carefully hidden from the others.

When they stopped the first night on their way home, their attendants pitched the silk pavilions and made camp.  As the crescent moon appeared in the west, they finished their supper and retired.  Even the camel drivers were asleep and all was silent.  King Balthasar, however sat alone in his tent, in the glow of a brass lamp, reflecting on the gift of gold he had given the God-King in Bethlehem.  He smiled at himself for the need he had felt to take something, a small token of remembrance, from that insignificant stable where the infant lay.

By the light of the lamp he opened a golden case and removed a single piece of yellow straw, saying aloud, “I came on this quest to seek a king, a real king, because I did not feel kingly.  I have always doubted myself, my royalty.  What makes me different from my camel drivers?  Do I not also have the same needs for food and drink, for love and physical comfort as they?  How is a king different, after all, from a carpenter or any commoner?”

He replaced the straw in its precious case and continued, “Back in Bethlehem, the father of that child was only a common peasant, a simple village craftsman; yet he was more regal than any king I have ever seen.  And the child’s mother—was she not queenly in her simple dignity?  What, I asked myself, is the source of this inner nobility that can change peasants into royalty?”

King Balthasar walked to the entrance of his tent, looking up at the night sky crowded with stars.  “I saw the answer to my questions in the eyes of that infant.  True nobility comes from an anointing of the heart, not of the head!”  Quietly the king returned to his bed, and as he retired he thought to himself, “I am returning home by a different route and as a far different king.  I rode to Bethlehem on my camel, high above the faceless sea of commoners, slaves and beggars, wondering about my kingship.  I return home understanding that my camel drivers and every woman, man and child I saw along the way are royal persons deserving of my respect and honor.  Indeed, that star was an omen of a new age.  It has raised the curtain of history, not upon a revolution of slaves and servants overthrowing thrones; this is an evolution, as slaves and servants become equal to kings and queens!”  As Balthasar blew out his oil lamp, he sighed, “Such an age of equality is almost beyond imagination.”

The three kings traveled on the next day, and the next night the three silk pavilions were raised and the camels bedded down as the noises of the caravan quieted.  Everyone had retired, and the last embers of the campfire glowed orange in the darkness.  King Melchior stood outside his pavilion, holding an oblong ivory box encrusted with rare jewels.

Looking upward, King Melchior spoke, as if to the sky.  “I followed one of your wondrous lights, hoping to find the answer to the most ancient of all riddles the puzzle of life and death.  My gift of myrrh was sign of my inner quest.  Myrrh is the ointment used for burial, and gifts tell a great deal about the giver.  Ah, yes, even kings die, no matter how great or powerful they are.  Somewhere in this world, I thought, there must be a magic charm, a secret to escape death.”

He opened the ivory box, removing a single yellow straw.  “I was ashamed,” he mused, “to tell the other two that I wanted to take a keepsake from that stable.”  For a long time he stood silent, looking at the straw he held.  “I remember once reading a passage from one of their prophets of long ago; his name was Isaiah, as I recall.  He promised a king to these people, and when he comes ‘he will destroy death forever…and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes…’”

King Melchior held the hollow straw up to his eye, pointing it toward the most brilliant star in the night sky.  “Death, I now see, is like this straw—merely a passageway from one life to another.  And we slip through as easily as my breath passes through this straw.”  The wise man held the straw up to his mouth, and, indeed, his breath passed through it.

On the third night, when they had made camp, after everyone else was asleep, King Caspar took his leather saddlebag from inside his tent and opened a side pouch.   He removed a silver flask inscribed with intricate hieroglyphics.  Standing at the entrance to his tent, he opened the flask, reverently placed it on the sand, and knelt before it.  He made a profound bow and, after a few moments of silent adoration, he straightened but remained kneeling.  Looking at the stars, he spoke:  “I confess to you, I also took a souvenir from that stable.  I came on this star-led adventure because I needed to find a God to believe in.  My gift of incense, a traditional offering to the holy, was a telltale sign of my search for belief.  Oh, I believed in some sort of impersonal divinity, but I could put no form or reason to it.”

In the stillness, the silk cloth of the pavilion rustled softly.  “I, the great Caspar,” he spoke mockingly, “was the agnostic king.  I came seeking a religious experience, some divine revelation.  And my disappointment must have been the greatest as we entered that livestock stable.  I was the last of the three to approach the infant to adore him.  How un-godlike it was—the shabby stable, an infant lying in a bed of straw in a makeshift crib, his two peasant parents beside him.  There were no heavenly lights, no divine thunder rumbled around us, no angelic music filled the stable.  And my gift of incense in its silver chest seemed humorously out of place.”

“I remember it as if it were this very night.  How slowly I came forward to kneel before the infant!  It seemed cruel to refuse to do so, an embarrassment to my two fellow kings, so I simply pretended adoration.  Then that tiny baby looked at me.  Everything and everyone there was suddenly bathed in light.  There was a brilliance in those small eyes greater than the star we had followed.  That stable had become more awesome than any great temple I had ever visited; everything, even the straw on the floor was aflame with glory.  That’s why I picked you up,” he said, removing a single piece of yellow straw from the flask in front of him.

Leaving the entrance to his tent, Caspar climbed to the top of a silent sand dune, and, looking up into the starry night, he raised his fragile straw to the heavens.  “That child has come to end all religion and to make temples needless,” he said.  “Religion, ironically often separates life from God.  This child, I know, will someday bring together life and religion as one.  Common and ordinary life will become sacred.  There will be no need for temples.”  His arm swept outward to encompass the entire night sky.  He dropped the straw.  “This will be the Great Temple!” 

Out of the shadows stepped Balthasar and Melchior, and the three stood without speaking, surrounded by the silence of the stars.  Finally, King Balthasar said, “Each of us is going home by a different way.  Noble companions, we have ridden three days now from Bethlehem.  Did we find what we were looking for?  If so, how has our view of life changed?”  For a long time the three kings stood silent.  Then they began to speak, each in turn.

“I, Balthasar, have seen the beginning of a new age, the end of a time when only a select few are given reverence, treated as gods come to earth.  I have seen the end to kings and queens as the anointed ones, for now every person will be seen as royal, unique and possessed of great dignity.”

“I, Melchior, have seen the death of death.  Now I see only life in countless forms of transformation.”

“And I, Caspar, what have I seen?  I have seen God, and now I see God everywhere!”

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

(“Preached” previously by Rev. Marlayna on Epiphany Sunday in 2007 in Annisquam; 2012 in York; 2017 in Manchester, NH; 2018 in Manchester, MA.)

December 27th Sermon

Sermon – December 27, 2020.                                                  Rev. Esther Rendon-Thompson.

PRAYER

            What are your sources of happiness or joy these days?

            You know, every year of my time in ministry in different churches where I served, I used the last Sunday of the year to talk about, resolutions, and often asked:

What are your resolutions for the New Year?

After what has happened in the world this year with the pandemic, planning ahead is difficult, at best. I’m sure, many of our wishes, hopes and plans all came tumbling down in 2020 and we don’t know how long the uncertainty will last into 2021.  We cancelled possible trips to Florida and Spain. Today instead of resolutions, I invite us to count our blessings! Some say that the only purpose to looking back is to learn something.

What might we learn by experiencing this degree of mental and emotional pain? Lost jobs or the sorrow caused by the death of loved ones can become nearly unbearable. Separation from common interactions making social distancing necessary and keeping us using video calls or other forms of communication with our friends and loved ones, are at times difficult change to embrace. Restrictions, have kept us away from our normal activities, including driving to neighboring states, flying and/ or just plain visiting.

Let’s think about our blessings for a moment; we have been blessed by not getting sick or recovering from illness; we have food on our tables, a roof over our heads, a warm bed and a place to call home. My heart breaks for those who are homeless, for those who have lost everything, and have become homeless due to fires, mud slides and other natural disasters. Many have found themselves jobless, and now they find themselves standing in long lines waiting for a charitable meal. On the other hand, doctors, nurses, police and first responders, are over worked and tired, their hope is for more helping hands, while others are wishing for some kind of work. To say that we all have been shaken in one way or another by the impact of the Covid-19 pandemic, is an understatement. A positive thing is that some have found comfort by becoming volunteers in shelters, pantries and restaurants. They are the helping hands that prepare and distribute food to those in need. Some have learned new trades and skills in the process. Some of us have used the extra time for reading, and/or discovering new gifts and talents we didn’t know we had; we simply try to stay connected with family and friends in the best way possible.

As we look back at 2020, we can’t ignore the parallel circumstances that have affected people of color in general. It’s been a year where once again, the cry for justice from all minority groups has come to the surface. Groups that are a fundamental part of the fabric of this nation, are still unable to be reconciled in white-governed America; making racism again, at the forefront of our attention as a cry for justice. For me the related violence we see is a manifestation of that cry. Our society is in crisis at several turns; in education, spiritually, socially, economically and racially.

Our world has been turned upside down; making us learn to create and see our world with new eyes, new perspectives, inspiring creativity, and enhancing technology. Others have had a harder time coping with feelings of emptiness, depression, confusion, disappointment and desperation, as if in a survival mode. Change is happening all around us, and we don’t exactly know what to do.

Let’s look for a moment at a poor family, who was not in a pandemic but in a time of the first census ever taken in Syria. Everyone needed to register in their home towns. No website to do this. No modern forms of transportation, either. The registration had to be done in person. I am talking about Joseph and Mary who had to go from Nazareth in Galilee to the city of David in Bethlehem of Judea, a 70-mile journey. Again, no way to make call-ahead reservations. Joseph and Mary, who was with child, embark on their journey at a slow pace; their donkey carrying Mary and their belongings.

As they finally arrived in Bethlehem, all the Holiday Inns were full. As we know the story, they ended up in a manger. A manger that was private, warm and a bit smelly, but for a tired Mary, it felt just perfect for the night. Her time came that night, and personally, I believe that God blessed Joseph and Mary with a midwife. There just had to be a midwife, perhaps the wife of the Innkeeper who directed them to the manger.  Of course, this is not mentioned anywhere in the gospels, as it wasn’t an important detail for male writers in those days. Jesus was born on that starlit night, and under the light of a bigger bright star, directly above them.  That star was guiding the shepherds and the magi to the Newborn King.

            Note that Luke’s writing does not include the story of the magi, which we borrow from Mathew, when we want to give a chronology to the whole story of the birth of Jesus. I say this because for Luke what was important, was to give emphasis to the law of God. Luke wants to probe that “Jesus was not above the law, but that he came to fulfilled the law…” (Luke 24:44). Bringing us additional stories we don’t often hear during the season, like those of the circumcision, Mary’s purification, the naming of Jesus and his presentation at the temple.

            Luke tells us, “On the eight day after the birth Jesus, Joseph took his baby boy to be circumcised as it was custom for all Jewish boys as stated in the law of Moses. “… and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived…” (Luke 2:21)

 On the fortieth day after the birth of the child, Mary and Joseph came together to the temple with baby Jesus. The custom was to give an offering to God in gratitude for the firstborn male, and a second offering for the purification of the mother. They were to offer a lamb, but because they were not able to afford one; they offered two turtle doves or pigeons instead for the sacrifice as required by the law of the Lord.

Soon after the sacrifice, Mary and Joseph entered the temple with their child and an old man approached them, and asked to hold the child. Immediately, He started to prophesy, and he praised God saying: “… Lord, now let your servant die in peace, as you have promised. My eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared for all people. He is the light to reveal God to the nations, and He is the glory of your people Israel.”                         (Luke 2:29-32). This man was Simeon, a very old man, a prophet who spent his older years in the temple. He had earlier received a promise by the Holy Spirit of God, that he would live to see the promised Messiah. And he knew in his heart of hearts that this was the child, the light of the world! Simeon also blessed the parents, and Mary and Joseph were amazed by his words.

          A second prophet, Anna, who was a widow after only seven years of marriage, and had lived in the temple for eighty-four years came along just as Simeon was talking with Mary and Joseph. When Anna recognizes Jesus as the answer to her prayers, she praised God and exclaimed: “Here is the redemption of Jerusalem.”  (Luke 2:36-38).

Just imagine the faces of Mary and Joseph, amazed by the message of the blessings poured out on their child and to them; these are clear examples of moments when unexpected blessings happen! This last Sunday of the year, may we remember that Jesus came to bring joy and happiness to everyone who believes, no matter the circumstances.

So: How about we start the New Year counting our blessings!  Amen!

Sermon: “The Gift of Joy”

INTRODUCTION:  Today’s Scripture readings come from various books of the Bible.  The first two are from the Hebrew Scriptures.  The third is from the New Testament--from the first chapter of Luke, after the angel announces to Mary that she will bear a son.  The readings all focus on joy, which is traditionally the theme of the third Sunday of Advent.  Let us listen for the Spirit speaking through these words. 

Scripture:

     Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.  (Nehemiah 8:10)

     Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.  Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.  (Psalm 126:5-6)

     Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”  (Luke 1:46-47)

Sermon:  “The Gift of Joy”

Christians are expected to be joyful at this time of year—as we prepare to welcome and celebrate the presence of Christ in our lives.  You hear it in our hymns, “Joy to the world!  The Lord is Come!”  and “Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel, has come to thee, o Israel…” But, I have to say, sometimes circumstances seem to conspire against us and, like a malevolent vacuum cleaner, they can suck the joy right out of us.  You know what I’m talking about.  Everyone who has lived through 2020 knows what I am talking about.  On the lighter end, maybe your car breaks down in the rain when you were trying to get your Christmas presents mailed to out of state relatives whom you can’t see this year; or, on the heavier end, maybe your job has been “downsized” in this Covid pandemic; maybe someone you love has gotten sick or died; maybe you feel incredibly disheartened by the growing political divisions in our country and the injustice and the attacks on democracy we see and hear about daily in the news.  And it’s just awful!!!   And sometimes it's almost impossible to make even a joyful noise.

Our scripture verses for today recognize the reality that it’s not always easy to feel joyful.  In fact, our first two scripture readings--from Nehemiah 8 and from Psalm 126-- speak of grief, tears, and weeping.  The amazing thing is that the Scriptures actually link the chaos of grief with the grounding of joy.  But here’s what the Scriptures don’t do.  They don’t say that we can manufacture our own joy.  They don’t say that we can will ourselves into feeling happy just because we want to.  The Scriptures say that “the joy of the Lord” is our strength.  To me this implies that joy is a gift from God.  It is a gift that is given to us even in the chaos of grief, when our lives can feel “like an overturned waste basket.”  (line from a poem by Kate Barnes.)  It is a gift that is there if we open our eyes and hearts to it. 

The late Yale Divinity School professor William Muehl told an amusing story of his four-year-old son's first Christmas pageant back in 1972.   It was a chaotic mess.  I’d like to share that story with you in hope that it will bring a smile to your face where ever you are on life’s journey--and, more importantly, in hope that this story can be a doorway into more fully accepting the gift of God’s joy in our own lives. 

Professor Muehl wrote:  [My son’s first Christmas pageant--at a Christian school] began with three virgin Marys coming onto the stage, coyly crowding around the creche and waving to their relatives in the audience. A vague uneasiness overcame [me, I was] fearful that [I] was about to witness the promulgation of a new dogma - group childbirth. [My] wife, however, was somewhat more sophisticated in such matters; she pointed out that the school had, over the course of the years, acquired three costumes for Mary.  So, by the strange logic which seems to govern pageants, there had to be three virgins.

The three virgins were closely followed by two Josephs who took up sullen postures near the box of straw and stood there picking their noses. Next came the angels, twenty little girls dressed in diaphanous white gowns and sporting immense gauze wings. They deployed themselves with suspicious symmetry across the platform. Then the shepherds appeared, an equal number of small boys dressed in burlap sacks and clutching an assortment of saplings which purported to be shepherds’ crooks.

At this point an unfortunate discovery came to light. In order to be sure that the angels and shepherds would strike a pleasantly balanced array on stage, the drama coach had made a series of chalk-marks on the floor. A circle for each angel and a cross for each shepherd. She had urgently instructed the children that they were all to find and stand on appropriate symbols. But unwisely this marking had been done when the students were wearing their ordinary clothes. When the angels came on in their flowing robes, each of them covered not only her own circle but the adjacent cross as well.

The shepherds, [Professor Muehl wrote,] driven by God knows what demonic impulse to indiscreet obedience, began looking for their places. Angels were treated as they had never been treated before. At last [my] little 4 year old boy had suffered about all such nonsense that he could handle. He turned toward the wings [of the stage] where the teacher in charge was going quietly mad and announced angrily, "All the damned angels are fouling up this whole show! They've hidden all the crosses." 

Isn’t that a great story?! Now, I must say that I find the professor’s story very amusing—but of course, that’s easy for me to say, because it wasn’t my child who made the pronouncement!! 

Had it been my child, I imagine I might have been mortified—especially if everyone knew I was a professor at a Christian seminary!  So, I was thinking that at this point, the divinity school professor and his wife could easily have grabbed their son and run out of the hall in shame and embarrassment.  For not only had their four-year-old son gotten angry and messed up his lines as a shepherd, but he actually cursed in public—at a Christian school, no less.  It would have been obvious to everyone that the child must have learned that language at home, from his parents, since of course the teachers at school didn’t regularly speak of “damned angels” (at least not in front of the children.)

But if the professor and his wife were tempted to run out in shame, the temptation only lasted for a moment.  Amazingly, in the midst of the chaos and embarrassment, God’s gift of joy descended, and the whole auditorium erupted in laughter.  The professor later reflected:

Christmas conspires to conceal the Christ. All the damned angels with their flapping wings and silvery songs, all the shepherds and parties and shopping and planning - all of it deflects attention from the Child himself.  (And I would add:  from the joy he brings when we open our hearts to him.)

My friends, when reflecting on the professor’s comments--written nearly 50 years ago, it occurs to me that this year’s Advent and Christmas season, where so many of our usual Christmas plans have been disrupted, may actually contain a gift for us.  Because we are not able to travel and shop and attend parties and dinners like we usually do, we actually have more time to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas and on our gratitude for the blessings in life that come to us even in the midst of grief.  We have time to stop and pray and experience what the old slogan refers to as “the reason for the season.”  I urge us all to use our time intentionally.   

May we, for instance, do something that fellow church member Debbie Holleran suggested in an email to council this past week (Debbie gave me permission to share this idea)--may we take the time to stop and pray for the people for whom we are wrapping gifts, as she did this year.  (Debbie said that rather than rushing through the wrapping, she took her time and stopped and prayed over each gift--and she said it really centered her and brought back joy at a time when she/we are missing so much of what’s normal for this time of year.)  Whether the gifts are for our family members and friends--or for people we are helping through the giving tree or other charitable organizations, may we take the time to lift them all up into the loving presence of Christ.

And we may want to take this practice one step further--when we engage in our routines of daily living--doing our work, helping kids or grandkids with virtual homework, catching up with the daily news, may we keep our co-workers, our children and grandchildren, and our political leaders in our prayers as well.  And may we pray that God continues to direct us how to move beyond prayer into loving action. 

In this Advent and Christmas season, may we each open our hearts more fully to the Christ child, and as we do so, may we find ways to experience and share the gift of God’s joy—joy that comes to us in the midst of chaos and even grief.  Thanks be to God. Amen. 

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

Notes: 

• The Muehl Christmas pageant story was sent to me by Rev. M. Enid Watson.

An earlier version of this sermon was first written and preached by Marlayna on 12/8/08.

December 6th Sermon: “Prepare our Hearts for Christmas”

INTRODUCTION:  Our Scripture Reading for today is a traditional reading for the Second Sunday of Advent.  It describes the appearance of John the Baptist, who was the cousin of Jesus.  John was a fiery preacher.  He spoke--and dressed-- in the style of the Hebrew Prophets, and he called people to prepare for the coming of the Messiah by repenting of their sins.  While John’s words may sound quite judgmental to us today, his message of prayerful preparation for the coming of the Lord is still relevant.  Let us listen to the Spirit speaking through these challenging words.

SCRIPTURE:  Matthew 3:1-12 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2 “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
    make his paths straight.’”

4 Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. 5 Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, 6 and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

7 But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruit worthy of repentance. 9 Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Sermon:  “Prepare our Hearts for Christmas”

Jud Wilhite, a pastor from Las Vegas, asks some thought-provoking questions in his book, “Eyes Wide Open.”  In a chapter about sin and grace, he asks:

          Have you ever had something haunt you day and night?  Something that follows you, gets into your dreams at night, and tweaks your perceptions of reality?  Something from your past maybe?  Something you would never tell anyone else?  Something you wish with all your might you could just make go away? (p. 23)

At different points in our lives, I’m guessing all of us could answer “yes,” to these questions.  Rev. Wilhite is, of course, talking about the power of sin to grab hold of us, like a pit-bull, and wreak havoc in our lives.  None of us is immune to it. 

Now, “Wait a minute,” you might be thinking, “Why is the pastor preaching about ‘sin’ before Christmas?  Shouldn’t she be telling some heart-warming story about people discovering the true meaning of the Season?”  That would be nice, and, to tell you the truth, I would prefer to do that—and just might do it before the season is over—but today I felt led to preach on this traditional Advent Scripture, set by the Lectionary, about John the Baptist appearing in the wilderness preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

But, before I go any further, let me say a word about the style of writing in this text.  Like last week’s Scripture, the style of much of this passage is apocalyptic.  It alludes to the end of the world as we know it, the time when Scripture predicts the Messiah will come to set up God’s Kingdom on earth.  This passage presents John the Baptist’s understanding of what the Messiah will do.  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. VIII, p. 158)  John believes that the Messiah--whom he names as Jesus--will come first and foremost to serve as God’s appointed judge and conqueror, separating the righteous from sinners, tossing the sinners aside to be punished, and victoriously establishing God’s reign on earth, defeating the Romans and all other world powers. 

However, it becomes clear as we read further on in the Gospel that this is not the type of Messiah that Jesus turned out to be. (Ibid.) Jesus came first and foremost to share God’s healing love with the whole world, especially with   those whom   society had cast aside.  In fact, later in Gospel of Matthew, when John the Baptist, who by this time was imprisoned by King Herod, heard reports of Jesus’ loving, healing, forgiving ministry, John actually sent messengers to Jesus questioning him.  In Matthew, Chapter 11 John’s messengers say to Jesus, “Are you the One who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”  John had trouble squaring his understanding of the Messiah with the loving, forgiving way that Jesus was behaving. 

To put it bluntly, John’s primary characterization of the Messiah as judge and conqueror described in this passage turned out to be wrong.  However, part of John’s message still applies.  John called people to prepare for the Messiah’s arrival by means of repentance--that is, turning away from harmful behavior, turning toward God.  (The word translated into English as “repentance” is based, in part, on a Hebrew verb that means “turn” or “return.”  Turning from away from one thing and turning back toward another.)  Repentance is a message that Jesus himself preached.  We all need to turn away from sin and turn back toward God--we all need to accept God’s forgiveness for the ways we have hurt ourselves and others.  Not so that we can avoid the wrath of God, but so that our lives can be aligned with God’s Love-- and so that we can live life to the fullest--with integrity.  Or, to use an image that is present in today’s text:  So that our lives can bear good fruit.  And the good fruit spoken about here is the spiritual fruit that the Apostle Paul talks about--the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  (Galations 5:22-23)

So, we are here in the Season of Advent, the season before Christmas, and we are called to take the time to prepare our hearts and lives for the coming of Christ.  (The word “Advent” means “coming.”)  In today’s Scripture we read that the people of Judea and Jerusalem were going out into the wilderness, and John the Baptist was preparing them to meet Jesus.  And the way he prepared them was this:  he had them walk down into the river, confessing their sins, as a symbol of their repentance. 

What a wild thing to do!  I dare say most of us have never done anything like this.  Even if we were raised Baptist and were baptized as teenagers or adults, as I was, I bet we’ve still never done anything quite like this.  I was baptized as a teenager in a civilized, fiberglass pool, with clean, warm water, and although I was asked to give a few words of testimony, I was not required to bare my soul or share any of my sins with the minister or the congregation, thanks be to God!

But maybe I should have been!  Not required to confess anything to any human being in a show of public humiliation, but I think my baptism would have been a more powerful experience if the minister had said to me, “Before I baptize you, I invite you—and all of us here today-- to take just a moment of silent prayer to confess your sins to God.” 

That is what John the Baptist had the people do in today’s reading—confess their sins to God.  And, then John baptized them as a symbol of God’s forgiveness.  And here’s the most powerful part of the symbolism:  After their baptism, the people turned, and walked back out of the river, but they left their sins behind!  They let them go.  They let go of their sins there in the water, and the flowing water carried their sins downstream, never to be seen again. 

What an incredible gift!  This is what we celebrate at Christmas—God gave the gift of love and forgiveness in Christ, who takes away the sins of the world.  The Scriptures tell us, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has God removed our transgressions from us.”  In Christ, we are forgiven for all of the harm--great and small--that we’ve done to ourselves, our neighbors, our world.  We can start afresh with a clean slate, learning from our mistakes, trusting God anew each day for the guidance and strength to follow God’s way of Love.  

But sometimes this gift of forgiveness can seem too good to be true.  Sometimes it’s hard to believe in our hearts that God actually does forgive us so freely. 

Let me give you an example.  The Las Vegas Pastor I quoted at the beginning of this sermon--Jud Wilhite-- told a story about one of his parishioners who came to him agonizing over a sin he had committed years ago.  (Apparently it was a doozey of a sin, but the pastor didn’t go into any of the details, so we’ll all just have to imagine what it could have been…)  Anyway, this man told his pastor that he had been praying every single day for the past ten years, asking God to forgive him for the same thing, but he didn’t feel like God had forgiven him.  So the man asked his pastor what he should do.  His pastor replied—go home and read Psalm 51, where King David talks about a sin that haunts him, read it and offer it up to God as a personal prayer, asking God to forgive and cleanse you.  Then the pastor said, and this is important—after asking God for forgiveness, “don’t ever ask God to forgive you for that sin again.  God forgave you a long time ago—you don’t need to keep bringing it up.”  (p. 25)

My brothers and sisters in Christ, I invite you (and me) in this Advent Season, starting today, to prayerfully reflect whether you are haunted by any sins from your past.  Maybe there is something that you have held onto over the years that is still bothering you.  Maybe there is something that you have had trouble forgiving yourself for.  If there is such a thing, I invite you to lift that up to God and to ask for forgiveness one last time.  And then, I invite you, to picture yourself standing in a river, letting go of that sin, watching it float downstream, never to be seen again.  Let us all prepare for Christmas by accepting anew the gift of God’s forgiveness.  Amen.

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

[an earlier version of this sermon was written and preached by Marlayna on December 8th, 2019 in Manchester-by-the-Sea]

November 29th Sermon: “Awake and Ready”

INTRODUCTION:  Today’s Scripture reading is one of the traditional readings set by the lectionary for the First Sunday in Advent.  It comes from the Gospel of Matthew, from the last section of Jesus’ teachings that scholars refer to as “The Judgment Discourse.”  In this final section of teaching, which sounds quite foreign to modern ears, Jesus lets his disciples know that after his death and resurrection, he will come back one day to set up God’s Kingdom on earth.  May the Spirit speak to us through these challenging words. 

Scripture:  Matthew 24:36-44

36“But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 37For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 38For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, 39and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. 40Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. 41Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. 42Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 43But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 44Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

Sermon:  “Awake and Ready”

Last year at this time, when I was at home working on my sermon for the first Sunday of Advent, our doorbell rang.  I put my computer down and went to the door, expecting to see my cousin who was due to arrive for a visit-- only to discover, when I opened the door, that there were two women standing on our front porch, one holding an iPad, and the other a set of print brochures, which I was pretty sure I recognized as the Jehovah’s Witnesses “Watch Tower” publication. I thought to myself, “Oh no, I don’t have time for this.” But they were standing there, smiling, and I didn’t want to be rude to them, so I stepped out and joined them on the front porch.  (Okay, let me be honest:  I did actually want to be rude to them, but I didn’t think Jesus would want me to be rude, so I decided to behave with civility.)

“Hello,” I said.  “My name is Marlayna.” They introduced themselves as Kayley and Rebecca, complimented me on my beautiful dog who was by this time standing behind me in the doorway, and Kayley asked if I wanted to see a short video about my future.  “A video about my future?” I repeated, surprised at this new use of technology and wondering what they meant exactly.  “Yes,” Kayley said, “Your future and the end of the world,” she said, ominously.  “Is this a religious thing?” I asked, and Rebecca answered, “Yes, we’re Jehovah’s Witnesses.”  “Ah,” I said.  “I thought you might be.  I am a Christian Pastor, and I already have a relationship with Jesus, a connection to God, so I don’t need to see a video--but I wish you well with your ministry.  May God bless you.”  They didn’t say another word; they just quickly backed away, off our porch, and continued on to the neighbors’ house.  “Oh well,” I thought, “back to my sermon writing.” 

But as I went back into the house I had to smile at the timing of their visit.  They arrived when I was struggling to write a sermon on the Gospel reading for the first Sunday of Advent, the reading that Alan just shared with us, that talks about the end of the world as we know it--the same thing the Jehovah’s witnesses wanted to talk to me about!  “Dang,” I thought to myself.  “Maybe I should have watched that video after all.  Perhaps I could have gotten some material for the sermon out of it!” 

But no.  I decided it would be better to stick with my usual resources for sermons, including commentary from respected professors of theology whose scholarship reflects the values our religious tradition holds dear:  rational thinking based on research that takes into account historical context and scientific understanding as well as faith.   

This passage from Matthew’s Gospel is an odd passage of Scripture, and not all that easy to interpret.  It’s a genre of writing called “apocalyptic.”  The apocalyptic genre, as you may know, uses a lot of ominous metaphor and symbolism to talk about the end of the world--or the end of the world as we know it.  Our passage for today describes the Second Coming of Christ, a belief--originating in the first century--that at the end of time, Jesus will literally come to earth again, in bodily form, not as a baby this time, but as our resurrected Lord and Savior, to fully set up God’s Kingdom on earth.  This apocalyptic passage--or one like it from another gospel--is read every year on the first Sunday of Advent.  The word “advent” comes from the word adventus, which means “coming” in Latin, and our Scripture reading describes the belief that Jesus will come to us, not only as a sweet, little baby on Christmas, but also, at the end of time, as God’s Messiah to set things right, once and for all, to renew and replace what is broken in our world.   

And, I have to say, that while I LOVE the promises* found in apocalyptic literature--the renewal of our broken world sounds absolutely wonderful, doesn’t it?!-- I really could do without the ominous, judgmental details in this genre.  I mean, couldn’t the writer, writing under the name of the disciple Matthew--who put together this Gospel from the words and stories of Jesus-- have skipped the reference to flood waters sweeping people away in the time of Noah?  Couldn’t he have--if not skipped--then at least softened the implication that only half of the people present on earth when Christ comes again are going to make it into God’s Kingdom?  When he puts it like that, it makes God sound very judgmental--and it makes me wonder what happened to God’s Love and Grace that is the main theme in other parts of this Gospel--and in the Bible in general. 

Given those questions, this is probably a good spot to give a little historical background on the Scripture text.  Matthew’s gospel was written in the last quarter of the first century A.D.  It was written 50 or 60 years after Jesus’ death and resurrection, when followers of Jesus were beginning to be persecuted for proclaiming their faith.  Oddly enough, this passage that sounds so ominous and judgmental to us was meant to give a disheartened and persecuted group of Christians hope, assurance and encouragement.  Hope that Christ had not forgotten about them, assurance that they would not be left behind, and encouragement to stay faithful to Christ’s teachings.  For the Kingdom of God in all its fullness really IS coming--in fact, Matthew reports, it could come at any moment--none of us knows when it will get here, and those who persevere in faith will not only see God’s glorious kingdom, but will get to live in it forever.  Matthew is reminding his persecuted church that their current fear and pain and experience of injustice will soon pass.  “Your time on earth is finite,” he says, in effect.  “Suddenly, out of nowhere, in the blink of an eye, Christ will come again and the world will be set right.  Things will be good.  And they will be good forever.”   

In the meantime, Matthew tells his people to keep awake and be ready--make your time on earth count.  In other words, keep following the teachings of Christ.  Keep loving your neighbor as yourself.  Or, as one commentator --Professor Eugene Boring--puts it, “[Keep] doing deeds of mercy, forgiveness, and peace” so that you will be found faithful when Christ comes.  And, by doing this, you will pave the way for God’s kingdom.  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. VIII, p. 448)

Those must have been incredible words of hope to the church of Matthew’s day, and nearly 2000 years later, his words still speak hope to us today, even if we view them more as metaphor than as literal prophecy.  Although our situation is different than that of Matthew’s community, we still experience fear and pain and injustice in this world.  This Scripture passage still reminds us that our experience of fear and pain and injustice will also pass.  Our time on earth is finite--our lives will end one day.  Time itself will end one day, so, like the people in Matthew’s church, we too need to make our time on earth count.  We too need to keep following the teachings of Jesus.  We too need to allow the Love of God to work in us-- and through us-- so that we can find the strength to love our neighbors as ourselves,   to do deeds of mercy, forgiveness, and peace.       Because, imperfect though we are, in these days before God’s Kingdom is fully established, we are God’s instruments for blessing God’s world.  REPEAT:  We are God’s instruments for blessing God’s world!

This Advent Scripture invites us to take that responsibility to heart:  to be awake and ready for ways God can use us—each of us-- to make a positive difference in the world.  Each of us has been given gifts and talents-- and time in which to use them.  Are you using your gifts and talents and time to their fullest?  Am I?  Are we consciously acting as God’s instruments of blessing in the world?  In other words, are we consciously looking for ways to love our neighbors as ourselves, to do deeds of mercy, forgiveness and peace?    Or are we more or less unconsciously just going along, doing our own thing?    

In this Covid crisis, all of us have been impacted emotionally and materially, some more than others.  And I dare say all of us find our energy sapped by the virus and its ramifications.  And when our energy is sapped, it is hard to find the emotional or material resources to reach out and help people beyond our immediate circles. 

I dare say that Matthew’s community, with the persecution it experienced, was in the same boat--BUT Jesus still called them to reach out and share God’s love with the world, AND Jesus still calls us to reach out too.  Let me be clear:  I don’t believe Jesus calls people to give more than they have, or to exhaust themselves, or go into debt in order to make grand gestures to help others.  What Jesus calls us to--first and foremost--is a change in perspective.  Jesus calls us-- each and all-- to lift our gaze from our own immediate circumstances in order to better see the circumstances of others-- to be awake and ready to find ways to use what we already have--our time, talent and treasure--to help people in need.

Let me give you an example.  In my second church there was a man who identified himself as a recovering alcoholic.  He told me that when he was younger, he had made a lot of bad decisions that hurt other people, but when he got older and got sober, he worked hard at making amends.  And his amends involved not just an attempt to make restitution for the hurt he had caused the people he knew, but also involved actively looking for ways to help others in need whom he didn’t even know.  For instance, although he didn’t have a lot of money, once a month he brought cold-cuts and bread into church, and at coffee hour, he invited the Sunday School kids to help him make sandwiches for the homeless.  As I reflected on this man’s example, it occurred to me that the value of his example lay not so much in the material ways he made restitution, but rather primarily lay in the change of mind and heart he exhibited for all to see--from the self-centered perspective of “What can I take to help myself when I feel desperate?” to “What can I give to help others when we all feel desperate?”    

In this Covid time, may we allow this person’s example to inspire us to ask the same question:  “What can I give to help others when we all feel desperate?” 

This Advent may our daily prayer be this:  “O God, help me to be awake and ready to see the needs of others.  Show me how I can be a blessing to someone today.”  Amen.

(Sermons on this Scripture--using some of the same words--were preached on Nov 28, 2010 in York, ME and again on Nov 27, 2016 in Manchester, NH and on December 4th, 2017 and Dec 1, 2019 in Manchester-by-the-Sea, MA)

*Read through commentary by Prof. David Lose.  The concept of “promise” was in his writing found on website:   http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=2893

November 22nd Sermon: Why Give Thanks?

Scripture:  Psalm 100 (from The Message, a Contemporary Paraphrase)

A Thanksgiving Psalm

On your feet now—applaud God!   

Bring a gift of laughter,    

sing yourselves into God’s presence.

Know this: God is God, and God, God.   

God made us; we didn’t make God.  

We’re God’s people, God’s well-tended sheep.

Enter with the password: “Thank you!” 

Make yourselves at home, talking praise.   

Thank God. Worship God.

For God is sheer beauty,    

all-generous in love,  

loyal always and ever.

Sermon:  Why Give Thanks?

If a magical genie—from a lamp or a bottle-- were to appear in front of you and say, “I grant you one wish that will come true right now.”  What might you wish for?  An interesting question to ponder, isn’t it?  If you knew your wish would be granted immediately, what might you wish for?  I invite you to think about it; we can talk about it at Zoom coffee hour later…

About 10 years ago, famous people all over the world were asked this same question by the editors of a popular magazine. And there were some very interesting replies.

I read about how one famous person answered that question in a way that really impressed the magazine editors.  (And, just so you know, I don’t know who the famous person was, he or she was simply referred to in the article as a “well known and much-loved celebrity.”)

But here’s what the famous person said:  “I’d wish that I could be given a greater ability to appreciate all that I already have.” Let me repeat that. 

In other words, this person was saying, “I’d like to be even more thankful than I am now.”  (Note:  the source for this anecdote is the Whole People of God online curriculum, for the date 11/23/08)

Wow.  To be honest, that was the last thing I was expecting a celebrity to say.  I confess I had a stereotype of “shallow celebrity” in mind, and I figured their answers would focus mainly on material things, like maybe “A house in the south of France,” “Paid college tuition for all my grandchildren,” “A private yacht to go with my private jet.”  (Or, maybe I was just projecting how I would answer the question if I were a celebrity!)  Or, I thought, I guess it’s possible that some celebrities might wish for more altruistic things like, “A cure for Covid, cancer and the common cold,” or “Peace on earth,” or “food enough to feed everyone in the world who is hungry.” 

But, the last thing I expected was a famous person who wanted to be even more thankful than they are right now.  Why would they want that?  Why give thanks?

I believe an answer can be found in our scripture reading for today, Psalm 100, which is entitled, “A Thanksgiving Psalm.”  Scholars believe this particular Psalm may have been written in the time of King David, which was roughly 1000 years B.C.  It could have been one of the Psalms sung by David and the ancient Hebrew people as they celebrated and gave thanks for the return of the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem.  Scholars believe it also could have been sung down through the centuries at annual New Year Festivals to celebrate and give thanks for the reign of God on earth—past, present, and future.  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. IV, p. 1064-1065.) 

Whatever its exact origins, Psalm 100 reminds people of their deep connection to God.  When the Psalm talks about “worshipping” God with thanksgiving, it is actually hard to convey in English exactly what that means.  In our culture, we’ve tended to think of “worship” as something we do in a church building, for an hour, once a week, on a Sunday.  During this Covid crisis, we have been forced to redefine what worship means--and this Psalm can help us continue to do that.  The Hebrew word for the verb “worship” used in this Psalm is abad, and it means “to orient one’s whole life and existence to a sovereign master.”  (Ibid, p. 1078.)   Let me repeat that. 

So, if we pair this all-encompassing understanding of worship with the act of thanks-giving, we get a powerful answer to our question, why give thanks?  We give thanks because the act of giving thanks is the primary means by which we break through the illusion of self-sufficiency.  We give thanks because the act of giving thanks is the primary way by which we align ourselves with God’s Love, which is the true Source of all things.

I remember learning about the power of giving thanks when I was a child—about 7 years old.  I had gone to visit my grandmother in Tennessee, and on a shelf in the living room of her apartment was a beautiful, blue glass bottle with gold designs painted on it.  (Looking back, I think it was actually a wine decanter, but, at age 7, what did I know?)  At age 7, to me, it looked just like the bottle in the 1960’s TV Show “I Dream of Jeanie,” and I remember wondering whether or not my grandmother’s bottle actually could be magic.  I mean, I knew it wasn’t magic—because when no one was looking, I actually took it down off the shelf and peered inside.  I rubbed it.  No genie.  But, nevertheless, that whole summer’s visit in Tennessee, I spent quite a bit of time just staring at that bottle, concocting stories in my imagination about how it could have been magic:  how some mystical stranger--in my mind it was a gypsy--had snuck into my grandmother’s apartment under cover of darkness, chased by thieves, and had hidden the bottle there in plain sight-- where no one notice it, surrounded by nick-nacks, specifically her collection of ceramic salt and peppershakers and a little Humel figurine with the foot partially broken off.  In my mind, the bottle was just waiting for the right person to break its spell and unleash iits true powers.  And the right person was, of course, a small child from the magical city of Revere, Massachusetts.

Well, to make a long story longer, after I got back home to Massachusetts, my grandmother packed up the glass genie bottle and mailed it to me.  It was such a sweet gesture!!  I remember opening it and thinking, “Wow!  What a present!  And it’s not even my birthday!”  I called her up on the phone and thanked her for it.  We had a good conversation.

But then my mother told me to write my grandmother a thank you note for the bottle.  “Why?” I said, “I already said ‘thank you’ over the phone, isn’t that enough?”  My mother said it wasn’t enough-- that thank you notes are very important, and receiving a thank you note from me would really make my grandmother feel good.  I didn’t agree.  I thought sending a thank you note to my grandmother was unnecessary overkill.  Had I been older I might have protested more, but I was young and at that age, I still did what my mother said without much complaint. 

So, I made my grandmother a card out of construction paper.  I drew a picture of the genie bottle on the cover, and on the inside of the card I wrote my grandmother a little poem, in rhyming verse.  (I still remember what I wrote:  “Thank you for the genie bottle that is blue and gold; it is very pretty, too, for that’s what my friends told.”  Emily Dickinson, watch out, here I come!)  I gave the note to my mother who addressed it and popped it in the mail.

The next summer, when we went back to Tennessee for our annual visit, I stopped in my tracks when we entered my grandmother’s living room.  There on the shelf where the blue glass genie bottle used to be, surrounded by the ceramic salt and pepper shakers and the Humel with the broken foot, was a little gold picture frame, and inside it was the construction paper thank-you note I had made.  At the time, still being a kid, I didn’t have enough of a vocabulary to describe how I felt when I saw the note up there on the shelf with her treasured possessions.  But now, looking back, I think I can articulate it.  I felt…  humbled that some little thing I could do to show my thanks could mean so much to someone else… honored that my grandmother had my thank-you note up there on display for all her guests to see… and connected—connected to someone who loved me enough to notice what I was interested in and to turn around and give it to me as a surprising, wonderful gift. 

My thank you note to my grandmother meant more to her than I had any idea it possibly could!!  And her acknowledgment of my thank you meant more to me than I ever could have imagined.  I mean, 51 years later I am still thinking about it! 

It occurs to me, now, that my grandmother’s genie bottle was magic—but the magic did not reside in the bottle itself—it resided in the act of giving it as a gift-- AND the act of giving and receiving the thanks associated with it. 

Perhaps our giving thanks to God functions in the same way—it humbles, honors, and connects us to the One who loves us more than we could ever ask or imagine, the One who is the source of all things, the One who gives us surprising, wonderful gifts every day, even in the midst of a pandemic.  God doesn’t take away our pain or grief, but God is present with us in the midst of it--giving us gifts each day, such as:

·        A phone call from a friend…

·        A yellow goldfinch that lands on our windowsill…

·        A dog or cat who is our companion…

God gives us a multitude of gifts that we simply have to open our eyes to notice. 

Why give thanks?  Because in the words of the Scripture:

God is sheer beauty,    

all-generous in love,  

loyal always and ever.  Amen.

(adapted from a sermon first written and preached—by Marlayna—on Nov 24, 2011 and then edited and preached again on Nov 19, 2017)

November 15th Sermon: “Using our Talents for the Kingdom of God”

INTRODUCTION: 

Today’s Scripture reading is set by the lectionary.  It is a parable that Jesus told, and one writer, describing it, says, “Once more, Jesus has told a story…to shake us out of our lethargy.”*  One way he shakes the modern reader is by using the imagery of a master and slaves.  Slavery is an anathema in a free world, and to our ears, it is hard to hear anything positive coming out of this image.  Our assumption would be that the master, by definition, would be exactly as the third slave sees him:  a harsh man doling out impossible tasks with the goal of punishing those who toiled on his behalf. 

However, for our understanding of this parable, it is important to note that in Jesus’ day, the people listening to his parable would have understood that this characterization of the master was too simplistic.  In Jesus’ day, there were different types of slavery.  Some slaves had managerial responsibilities of the master’s estate, and after a certain number of years of service, they were granted their freedom-- and even given a share of the master’s estate.**  In this parable, the slaves depicted here are the managerial type, and the master is portrayed as very wealthy--and generous. 

Keeping in mind this historical context, let us listen for the Spirit speaking through these words.

Scripture:  Matthew 25:14-30

14“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; 15to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. 17In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. 18But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. 20Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, “Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.” 21His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” 22And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, “Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.” 23His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” 24Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; 25so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.” 26But his master replied, “You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? 27Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. 28So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. 29For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. 30As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

Sermon:  “Using our Talents for the Kingdom of God”

In my second church, there was a man who was originally from Chelsea, Massachusetts.  This man told me a story about his father, whom I shall refer to as “Mr. Smith,” which is not his real name.  Mr. Smith was a donut maker, and he made a darn good donut.  Everyone thought so.   Mr. Smith had a little bakery shop in Chelsea, where he made and sold his donuts.  Mr. Smith wasn’t wealthy, but he made enough to get by; he was able to support his family.  One day, a friend approached Mr. Smith.  The friend was a coffee maker.  The friend said to Mr. Smith something like this: “I have an idea.  An investment opportunity.  You make the best donuts around.  I make the best coffee.  I’m thinking we combine our operations--we make coffee and donuts in one shop.   It will take some cash to get started; it will be a bit of a risk, but I think it’s gonna be worth it.  I really see this business taking off.  We’ll start with one shop, but with our quality products, we’ll expand in no time.  Pretty soon everyone around will be enjoying our coffee and donuts—it will be great!  Can I count you in?” 

Mr. Smith looked at his friend the coffee maker and said something like this:  “Thanks for thinking of me; I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.  I’m happy with my one little shop.  I’m not wealthy, but I make enough to get by.  I don’t really want to do anything more.”  The coffee maker was disappointed, but he accepted his friend’s decision.  “I’m sorry you feel that way; I guess I’ll have to find another donut maker.”  And he did.  And Dunkin Donuts was born.  And Mr. Smith, who had chosen not to take part in the investment opportunity, kicked himself for the rest of his life.  Sad!

Mr. Smith is a bit like one of the characters in today’s parable—the slave who had received the one talent from his master.  Rather than taking a risk to use the talent, the slave with the one talent opted for security—he went and hid his talent in the ground.  Like Mr. Smith the donut maker, he had very little vision for what he could accomplish with his talent.  He was satisfied with doing the least he could do to get by. 

Let’s look more closely at the parable.  First of all, the word “talent,” as we know it, came into the English language through this parable.  (In Quest of a Kingdom, by Leslie Weatherhead, p. 152.)  The word “talent” in Jesus day referred to a sum of money.  A large sum.  It represented 20 years worth of wages for a day laborer.  (Interpretation Commentary, Matthew, by Douglas R.A.Hare, p. 286.)  So for a master to entrust his slaves with such large sums, it was clear the master would have high expectations and would want the slaves to do something important with the money, to use it wisely.  The master was making a large investment, and he expected a large return. 

Further, one well-respected Biblical scholar that I read--Professor Eugene Boring--looking closely at the wording in this parable, makes a strong case that the master in this story wasn’t simply asking the slaves to invest the money--or put it to use--on his own behalf.  Rather, the master gave the money to the slaves as a gift, as an investment in them, if you will, with the understanding that all the money--the initial investment plus the earnings-- would become the property of the slaves-- if they demonstrated that they were responsible with what they had been given and had used the investment well.  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. VIII, p. 453, footnote 536.)   Notice, also, that the scripture is clear that each slave was given an amount “according to his ability”; the master was not being imprudent or Machiavellian--setting his slaves up to fail--no one was given more than he could handle. 

The sad thing about this parable is that the slave who received the one talent completely misunderstood the nature of his master and what his master expected of him.  This slave saw his master as harsh and unfairly demanding.  He saw the talent not as gift from the master, not as an opportunity to do something worthwhile and life-changing; he saw it as a burden to bear, a risk that was too scary to take.  And here’s the saddest part:  because his vision was too small to see his talent for what it really was--a doorway to opportunity, a chance to share in the life-changing work of his master, he missed out.  He missed out on what his fellow slaves experienced—a chance to be in partnership with the master, sharing in his joy. 

My brothers and sisters in Christ, this is what God offers to each one of us.  We are like the slaves in the story.  God has invested in each of us.  Each of us is entrusted with talents—skills and resources and gifts from God, and we are each called to use them wisely, to do something worthwhile and life-changing and joyful with them.  We are not called to play it safe, to bury what we have been given in the ground.  We are called to get out there and take risks and use what we’ve got to build God’s kingdom.  In fact, God is counting on us!  All of us.  Each of us.  God is counting on us to shine the light of God’s love in the world.  Like the slaves in the parable, each of us was given various talents, and the ability to use them, and God expects us to do just that.

Now, some of you listening to this may be feeling a little discouraged about now, thinking something like this, “Maybe some people were given talents by God, but not me.  God must have skipped over me in the talent line.”  If you are thinking that, let me assure you, it’s not true.  Let me read a couple of paragraphs from a book written by Leslie Weatherhead (one of my favorite authors), a minister who was serving a church in England during World War II.  His words may be over 70 years old, but they are still applicable today:

…we must have a wide view of the meaning of the word “talent.”  It is really a misfortune that the word has come to be used in such a limited connotation.  Those people who are my age and older will remember that in our youth the word “talent” was limited to being able to sing when friends came to tea, or being able to embroider … a nice cushion, or to recite a little poem.  But would you rather live with [someone] who can sing, or with [someone] who has a talent for cheerfulness?  Would you rather live with somebody who is a brilliant reciter of somebody else’s poems, or with somebody who can make life itself a poem with love and kindness and cheerfulness.

          Sympathy is a talent.  Can you write a kind letter to somebody in distress?  Or do you say, “Well, of course, I am not gifted.  I can’t do anything to help”?  Tenacity of purpose, tenderness, lovableness, kindness, running a business or an office so that the atmosphere is conducive to the growth of the best things, running a home—a hard task in these days—so that there is joy in it and peace in it and serenity, with none of that noisy, hectic tumult that spells nervous tension for everyone in the house—yes, that is a talent indeed…  There are all kinds of abilities beyond the things that the world has labeled talent.  There is no one who has no talent. 

And then he quotes a verse of poetry by Rudyard Kipling:

          There’s not a pair of legs so thin, there’s not a head so thick,

          There’s not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick,

          But it can find some needful job that’s crying to be done,

          For the Glory of [God’s] Garden glorifieth every one.

My brothers and sisters in Christ, out in our community and in our world, there are a multitude of “needful jobs…crying to be done.” And God has entrusted us with talents so that we can do these jobs for the glory of God.  Will we rise to the occasion?  I know that in many ways, we already are.  This church shines the light of God’s love to the people around us in ways large and small.  But are there opportunities for service—maybe some simple ones—that we are missing? 

o   Maybe a neighbor is going through a hard time, and we need to be brave enough to say (if we haven’t said already), “My church has a prayer ministry; would you like me to add your name to the list of people we are praying for?”   

o   Or, maybe an elderly person, who is not adept with technology, would appreciate a phone call to check in. 

This week, I invite you to think about ways you could use your talents to share God’s love in our community, and next Sunday, at our zoom fellowship time, I invite each of us to share a brief story of how we’ve put our talents to use.  God has invested in each one of us.  May we use that investment well, may we use our talents and enter into the joy of our master.  Amen.  

An earlier version of this sermon was first written and preached in York, ME on November 13, 2011.

November 8th Sermon: “Avoiding Burnout”

Scripture:  Matthew 25:1-13

INTRODUCTION:  Our Scripture reading today is set by the lectionary.  It is from Matthew’s gospel, and it is not an easy story to understand or interpret.  May God’s Spirit guide us as we examine these challenging words. 

The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. 2 Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. 3 When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; 4 but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. 5 As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. 6 But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ 7 Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. 8 The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ 9 But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ 10 And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. 11 Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ 12 But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ 13 Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

Sermon:  “Avoiding Burnout”

Today’s Scripture Reading is one of those readings that, when you hear it for the first time--or even for the twelfth--you scratch your head and say, “What?!”  for a number of reasons, including the following:

·        The marriage custom described here--10 bridesmaids, each holding lamps, waiting hours for the bridegroom to appear--is totally foreign to us. 

·        The parable is short on a lot of details we want to know, such as:

o   Why is the bridegroom delayed until midnight? 

o   Where is the bride; why isn’t she mentioned? 

o   Is the mention of midnight symbolic or literal?

o   If literal, then in the days before 24-hour pharmacies, would shops selling lamp oil really be open for business at midnight? 

·        And, finally, why are the 5 wise bridesmaids so unwilling to share what they have with others?  Doesn’t this violate Jesus’ command to love your neighbor as yourself? 

Because the details in this story don’t make a lot of sense if you take them literally, many commentators suggest that this story was not actually a parable that Jesus told.  Rather, many scholars argue that it was created later--at the end of the first century AD by the writer of Matthew’s Gospel--created as an allegory to address the situation and context of Matthew’s community.*  Which, honestly, makes me tempted to simply dismiss this reading as something we don’t need to pay that much attention to.  EXCEPT for the fact that it is still Scripture, and even though this story probably didn’t originate with Jesus, it can still have things to teach us.  Things that can strengthen our faith. 

As I prayed over this Scripture this week-- about what I/we might be able to learn from it, what my attention continued to be drawn back to    was the refusal of the 5 wise bridesmaids to share their oil with their friends.  I mean, what is up with that?  In other teachings Jesus repeatedly refers to the extravagant generosity of God.  He famously shares 5 loaves and 2 fish with 5000 people on the hillside.  He directs his disciples that if someone asks for your coat, give him your cloak as well.  And even later in this same chapter (chapter 25), Jesus talks about sharing our talents, our time, our food, our drink, our clothing. 

All of which made me wonder, “Is there a limit to what we should share with others?”  When asked by the 5 foolish bridesmaids to give up some of their lamp oil, the 5 wise bridesmaids say to their friends, “No!  there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” 

After reading that surprising response through a few times, a lightbulb--no pun intended--suddenly went off in my head--if the 5 wise bridesmaids had shared their oil, their lamps would have, literally, burned out. 

So, what this story says to me is that there are times when it is not only okay, but necessary, for us to limit our sharing.  Because our reserve of oil--which I invite us to think about as being our inner reservoir of spiritual energy--is very precious.  And if we allow it to burn out, we are doing a disservice to ourselves, our neighbors, and our God. 

Further, it is each person’s responsibility to tend to their own reservoir of oil, their own inner reservoir of spiritual energy, because other people simply can’t tend it for us.  I can’t fill or refill your inner reserve of spiritual energy, and you cannot fill or refill mine.  We each first need to open our hearts to God and ask God to fill it for us. 

I realize I am speaking metaphorically here, so let me switch to speaking very practically.  These are very stressful times we are living through.  I talked about some of the stressors we are all experiencing in last week’s sermon, and I won’t enumerate them all here again.  I am sure we can each name them without thinking too hard.  In fact, I read this week that, “The American Psychological Association warned that [our whole] nation faces a ‘mental health crisis’ in its annual “Stress in America” report released earlier this month. Among several alarming figures, the study found 77% of adults – up from 66% in 2019 – say the future of the nation is “a significant source of stress.” [from WBUR newsletter October 30, 2020]

So, all that to say, I think we can all agree that the stress everyone is feeling is taking a toll on our inner reserves of spiritual energy, and we each need to tend to our own reservoir of oil, so that our lamps do not burn out. 

The question is, how do we do that?  How do we tend our inner reserve of spiritual energy--how do we let God refill it so that we avoid spiritual burn out? 

Well, the good news is that if you are watching this livestream video, you are already opening your hearts to God’s replenishing Spirit.  You are already letting the teachings of scripture, the power of prayer, the ministry of music re-fill your reserve.  Praise be to God!  And I know that many of you have other spiritual practices you do during the week--when you pray, read scripture or other devotional materials, watch other church services or listen to spiritual podcasts, do yoga or take a daily walk. 

And these are such important ways of filling our lamps with oil, of replenishing our spiritual energy! 

Another practice you may also engage in--that I’ve been engaging in more lately-- is meditation.  I thought I would spend a little time explaining this one, as it may be one that we are less familiar with than some of the others I mentioned--because, up until recently, meditation hasn’t been part of mainline Christian practice. 

As you may know, there are many ways to practice meditation.  You can download an app, watch a video on youtube, or simply focus on your own breathing.  Since meditation may be something we associate more with yoga than we do with our Christian faith, I thought I would explain how we can engage in meditation in a way that taps into our own faith tradition.  

Let me start by describing one practical time when I used meditation to replenish my own spiritual energy and reduce my stress.

A few years ago, my dentist told me I needed a root canal.  I had never had one before, and I’d only ever heard bad things about them, so on the day I went for my root canal, I was a bundle of nerves.  I was practically hyperventilating when I sat down in the endodontist’s chair.  The endodontist was very nice.  He had a calm demeanor, explained how the procedure would work, and asked me if I had any questions.  I told him I was really nervous, and wondered if there was anything I could do to be less so.  I was thinking along the lines of taking drugs--medication, I mean. J  He looked at me and said, “You’re a minister, right?  Might I suggest prayer or meditation?”  “Ahhh--prayer or meditation,” I responded with a smile, “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

Truth be told, I had already been praying, but when I started to meditate, it made all the difference!  I started to recite Psalm 23--not out loud, as I couldn’t talk with the cotton batting in my mouth, but in my head.  And I connected it to my breathing.  “The Lord is my shepherd,” I said as I was breathing in, “I shall not want,” I said, as I was breathing out.  “He maketh to me lie down in green pastures” (breathe in); “He leadeth me beside the still waters” (breathe out.)  “He restoreth my soul.”  And so it went.  I breathed through the whole psalm, and when I was done, I recited it again.  And again.  And--I kid you not--I felt most of my anxiety melt away.  My circumstances did not change--I was still there getting a root canal, but my attitude did a 180 degree turn.  And I got through the procedure just fine.  (Without drugs.) 

To end this sermon, I thought I could lead us all in a brief, 3-minute guided meditation, as an exercise in reducing our collective anxiety and replenishing our inner reservoir of spiritual energy.  First of all, let me say, “No pressure.”  If this a guided meditation is not something you want to participate in right now, obviously, you don’t have to.  You can walk away from the livestream for 3 minutes or fast-forward through it if you are watching at a later time. 

But if you’d like to participate in this guided meditation, I invite you to sit comfortably where you are. 

If you are not in a comfortable spot, feel free to move to one.  Sit in a comfortable chair.  Lie down on the sofa.  Find a place where you do not feel confined. 

I invite you to Close your eyes if you wish--or keep your eyes open and focus on an object that symbolizes an aspect of God--maybe one of the candles here or the picture of Jesus, or the cross. 

·        As you sit comfortably, I invite you to focus on your breathing.

·        As you inhale, I invite you to breathe in deeply.  Let your chest and your abdomen expand as your lungs take in air. 

·        Hold in the air for a moment, giving thanks for the gift of breath.

·        And as you exhale, feel your stomach muscles gently contract, helping the breath to exit your lungs.

·        Continue to inhale and exhale, at your own pace, and as you breathe, remember that the Hebrew word for breath, “ruah,” is a word that also means “spirit.” 

·        So, as your body breathes in air, I invite your soul, also to breathe in God’s Spirit. 

·        And as you exhale, I invite your body and soul to let go of any excess tension, stress, you may have been holding.

·        Breathe in God’s Spirit…breathe out stress…

·        Keep breathing… 

·        And, as you breathe in, may you hear Jesus’ words from Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens” --

·        And, as you exhale, hear Jesus finish the sentence, “And I will give you rest.”

·        Inhale… “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens,”--

·        Exhale…  “And I will give you rest.”

·        Keep breathing, and as you breathe, feel the Spirit of God replenishing your body, mind and soul. 

·        Inhale… “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens,”--

·        Exhale…  “And I will give you rest.”

·        May God’s Spirit give you the energy and strength you need to live in the midst of this uncertain world.  Amen.  

*New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. VIII, p. 449

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

November 8, 2020

(Image from http://www.textweek.com/yeara/propera27.htm)

Scripture:  Matthew 25:1-13

INTRODUCTION:  Our Scripture reading today is set by the lectionary.  It is from Matthew’s gospel, and it is not an easy story to understand or interpret.  May God’s Spirit guide us as we examine these challenging words. 

The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. 2 Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. 3 When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; 4 but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. 5 As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. 6 But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ 7 Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. 8 The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ 9 But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ 10 And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. 11 Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ 12 But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ 13 Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

Sermon:  “Avoiding Burnout”

Today’s Scripture Reading is one of those readings that, when you hear it for the first time--or even for the twelfth--you scratch your head and say, “What?!”  for a number of reasons, including the following:

·        The marriage custom described here--10 bridesmaids, each holding lamps, waiting hours for the bridegroom to appear--is totally foreign to us. 

·        The parable is short on a lot of details we want to know, such as:

o   Why is the bridegroom delayed until midnight? 

o   Where is the bride; why isn’t she mentioned? 

o   Is the mention of midnight symbolic or literal?

o   If literal, then in the days before 24-hour pharmacies, would shops selling lamp oil really be open for business at midnight? 

·        And, finally, why are the 5 wise bridesmaids so unwilling to share what they have with others?  Doesn’t this violate Jesus’ command to love your neighbor as yourself? 

Because the details in this story don’t make a lot of sense if you take them literally, many commentators suggest that this story was not actually a parable that Jesus told.  Rather, many scholars argue that it was created later--at the end of the first century AD by the writer of Matthew’s Gospel--created as an allegory to address the situation and context of Matthew’s community.*  Which, honestly, makes me tempted to simply dismiss this reading as something we don’t need to pay that much attention to.  EXCEPT for the fact that it is still Scripture, and even though this story probably didn’t originate with Jesus, it can still have things to teach us.  Things that can strengthen our faith. 

As I prayed over this Scripture this week-- about what I/we might be able to learn from it, what my attention continued to be drawn back to    was the refusal of the 5 wise bridesmaids to share their oil with their friends.  I mean, what is up with that?  In other teachings Jesus repeatedly refers to the extravagant generosity of God.  He famously shares 5 loaves and 2 fish with 5000 people on the hillside.  He directs his disciples that if someone asks for your coat, give him your cloak as well.  And even later in this same chapter (chapter 25), Jesus talks about sharing our talents, our time, our food, our drink, our clothing. 

All of which made me wonder, “Is there a limit to what we should share with others?”  When asked by the 5 foolish bridesmaids to give up some of their lamp oil, the 5 wise bridesmaids say to their friends, “No!  there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” 

After reading that surprising response through a few times, a lightbulb--no pun intended--suddenly went off in my head--if the 5 wise bridesmaids had shared their oil, their lamps would have, literally, burned out. 

So, what this story says to me is that there are times when it is not only okay, but necessary, for us to limit our sharing.  Because our reserve of oil--which I invite us to think about as being our inner reservoir of spiritual energy--is very precious.  And if we allow it to burn out, we are doing a disservice to ourselves, our neighbors, and our God. 

Further, it is each person’s responsibility to tend to their own reservoir of oil, their own inner reservoir of spiritual energy, because other people simply can’t tend it for us.  I can’t fill or refill your inner reserve of spiritual energy, and you cannot fill or refill mine.  We each first need to open our hearts to God and ask God to fill it for us. 

I realize I am speaking metaphorically here, so let me switch to speaking very practically.  These are very stressful times we are living through.  I talked about some of the stressors we are all experiencing in last week’s sermon, and I won’t enumerate them all here again.  I am sure we can each name them without thinking too hard.  In fact, I read this week that, “The American Psychological Association warned that [our whole] nation faces a ‘mental health crisis’ in its annual “Stress in America” report released earlier this month. Among several alarming figures, the study found 77% of adults – up from 66% in 2019 – say the future of the nation is “a significant source of stress.” [from WBUR newsletter October 30, 2020]

So, all that to say, I think we can all agree that the stress everyone is feeling is taking a toll on our inner reserves of spiritual energy, and we each need to tend to our own reservoir of oil, so that our lamps do not burn out. 

The question is, how do we do that?  How do we tend our inner reserve of spiritual energy--how do we let God refill it so that we avoid spiritual burn out? 

Well, the good news is that if you are watching this livestream video, you are already opening your hearts to God’s replenishing Spirit.  You are already letting the teachings of scripture, the power of prayer, the ministry of music re-fill your reserve.  Praise be to God!  And I know that many of you have other spiritual practices you do during the week--when you pray, read scripture or other devotional materials, watch other church services or listen to spiritual podcasts, do yoga or take a daily walk. 

And these are such important ways of filling our lamps with oil, of replenishing our spiritual energy! 

Another practice you may also engage in--that I’ve been engaging in more lately-- is meditation.  I thought I would spend a little time explaining this one, as it may be one that we are less familiar with than some of the others I mentioned--because, up until recently, meditation hasn’t been part of mainline Christian practice. 

As you may know, there are many ways to practice meditation.  You can download an app, watch a video on youtube, or simply focus on your own breathing.  Since meditation may be something we associate more with yoga than we do with our Christian faith, I thought I would explain how we can engage in meditation in a way that taps into our own faith tradition.  

Let me start by describing one practical time when I used meditation to replenish my own spiritual energy and reduce my stress.

A few years ago, my dentist told me I needed a root canal.  I had never had one before, and I’d only ever heard bad things about them, so on the day I went for my root canal, I was a bundle of nerves.  I was practically hyperventilating when I sat down in the endodontist’s chair.  The endodontist was very nice.  He had a calm demeanor, explained how the procedure would work, and asked me if I had any questions.  I told him I was really nervous, and wondered if there was anything I could do to be less so.  I was thinking along the lines of taking drugs--medication, I mean. J  He looked at me and said, “You’re a minister, right?  Might I suggest prayer or meditation?”  “Ahhh--prayer or meditation,” I responded with a smile, “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

Truth be told, I had already been praying, but when I started to meditate, it made all the difference!  I started to recite Psalm 23--not out loud, as I couldn’t talk with the cotton batting in my mouth, but in my head.  And I connected it to my breathing.  “The Lord is my shepherd,” I said as I was breathing in, “I shall not want,” I said, as I was breathing out.  “He maketh to me lie down in green pastures” (breathe in); “He leadeth me beside the still waters” (breathe out.)  “He restoreth my soul.”  And so it went.  I breathed through the whole psalm, and when I was done, I recited it again.  And again.  And--I kid you not--I felt most of my anxiety melt away.  My circumstances did not change--I was still there getting a root canal, but my attitude did a 180 degree turn.  And I got through the procedure just fine.  (Without drugs.) 

To end this sermon, I thought I could lead us all in a brief, 3-minute guided meditation, as an exercise in reducing our collective anxiety and replenishing our inner reservoir of spiritual energy.  First of all, let me say, “No pressure.”  If this a guided meditation is not something you want to participate in right now, obviously, you don’t have to.  You can walk away from the livestream for 3 minutes or fast-forward through it if you are watching at a later time. 

But if you’d like to participate in this guided meditation, I invite you to sit comfortably where you are. 

If you are not in a comfortable spot, feel free to move to one.  Sit in a comfortable chair.  Lie down on the sofa.  Find a place where you do not feel confined. 

I invite you to Close your eyes if you wish--or keep your eyes open and focus on an object that symbolizes an aspect of God--maybe one of the candles here or the picture of Jesus, or the cross. 

·        As you sit comfortably, I invite you to focus on your breathing.

·        As you inhale, I invite you to breathe in deeply.  Let your chest and your abdomen expand as your lungs take in air. 

·        Hold in the air for a moment, giving thanks for the gift of breath.

·        And as you exhale, feel your stomach muscles gently contract, helping the breath to exit your lungs.

·        Continue to inhale and exhale, at your own pace, and as you breathe, remember that the Hebrew word for breath, “ruah,” is a word that also means “spirit.” 

·        So, as your body breathes in air, I invite your soul, also to breathe in God’s Spirit. 

·        And as you exhale, I invite your body and soul to let go of any excess tension, stress, you may have been holding.

·        Breathe in God’s Spirit…breathe out stress…

·        Keep breathing… 

·        And, as you breathe in, may you hear Jesus’ words from Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens” --

·        And, as you exhale, hear Jesus finish the sentence, “And I will give you rest.”

·        Inhale… “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens,”--

·        Exhale…  “And I will give you rest.”

·        Keep breathing, and as you breathe, feel the Spirit of God replenishing your body, mind and soul. 

·        Inhale… “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens,”--

·        Exhale…  “And I will give you rest.”

·        May God’s Spirit give you the energy and strength you need to live in the midst of this uncertain world.  Amen.  

*New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. VIII, p. 449

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

November 8, 2020

November 1 Sermon: “Celebrating the Saints”

Intro to Scripture:

Today’s reading comes from the New Testament Book of Hebrews, a book that reads like a series of sermons ending with a letter.  The Book of Hebrews was written at the end of the first century A.D., most likely by someone who worked closely with the Apostle Paul.  The book’s main purpose is to encourage church members to persevere through a time of struggle and persecution.  Today’s passage uses the metaphor of running a race and being cheered on by those who have gone before.  Let us listen for God’s Spirit speaking through these ancient words…

Scripture:  Hebrews 12:1-3 (NRSV)

1Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of* the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.  3 Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.

Sermon:  “Celebrating the Saints” 

So, TODAY is November 1st, and Christians all over the world are celebrating a holy day called “All Saints Day.”  I thought I would review a little of the history behind this holiday, and then we will explore why it might be especially important for us to celebrate this year.

“All Saints Day” was marked on the Christian Calendar in the 4th century A.D., and it began as a day to celebrate those whom the Catholic Church had officially designated as “saints,” especially those who died as martyrs for their faith.

Protestants—that is, the groups of people who protested against certain church practices and broke away from the Catholic Church during the Reformation in the 16th century— Protestants have a more expansive definition of what the word “saint” means.  In the Protestant Church (and, by Protestant, I am referring to denominations such as ours--Baptist and United Church of Christ--as well as others, like Lutherans, Methodists, Presbyterians, AME, Assemblies of God, etc), in the Protestant Church, we do not restrict the word “saint” to refer only to those officially selected and honored by the Catholic and Orthodox churches down through the centuries.

Protestants go back to the Biblical definition and use the word “saint” the way it was used in the New Testament—to refer to anyone who was a follower of Jesus.  Or, to put it another way, the word “saint,” as it was used in the New Testament writings of the Apostles, did not refer to people whose behavior was exceptionally holy; it referred to flawed human beings who found access to God, forgiveness and love, through Jesus Christ.  So, in the Protestant church, our understanding is that we are all sinners—AND we are all saints.   

So, when we Protestants celebrate all Saints Day, our celebration includes more than just the officially designated saints.  We give thanks to God for ALL followers of Jesus down through the centuries—BOTH those who have been officially recognized AND those who have quietly lived and died and done their best to love God, neighbor, and self without any recognition.  On All Saints Day, we give thanks to God for people whose lives have been an example to us as we go through our own struggles.  We give thanks for people whose memories and spirits cheer us on, like spectators in a race, which is the image used in today’s Scripture Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews, chapter 12.

The writer of Hebrews compares life to a race--and not an easy one.  We’re talking marathon here, not a “fun run” or a 5K.  You can tell that the race is difficult, by the words the author of Hebrews chooses to use to describe it.  In verse 1, he talks about “weight and sin that cling so closely”--and one commentator tells us that the Greek words used carry the connotation of encumbrances that “surround, beset, and distract” the runners.  Further, the author of Hebrews uses the word “hostility” in verse 3, which is a translation of the Greek word antilogia, and refers specifically to verbal opposition and abuse.  And twice, the writer speaks of “endurance”--and reminds the people of the pain Jesus went through--not to make the people feel bad--but to remind them they are not alone in their pain.  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. XII, p. 150.)   

Do any of you ever feel like that--surrounded, beset, and distracted by encumbrances that feel like a heavy weight?  Do you ever feel weary and worn out and alone in your pain?  (I won’t ask for a show of hands--or you to click on an expressive emoji.)  But it has been such a tough year, hasn’t it?!--and it’s not over yet! 

·        The pandemic is dragging on so much longer than any of us initially thought;

·        We are grieving the people we have lost to Covid and other illnesses;

·        We are tired of the isolation;

·        We are disturbed by racism and injustice and unrest;

·        We are worried about the election, and we are worried about our finances.

·        And if all that isn’t bad enough, now winter is coming, and as of tonight, it will be getting dark at 4:30 in the afternoon!

It is all very, very hard!!

But we are NOT alone.  Today’s Scripture proclaims that Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, for the sake of the joy that was set before him, endured and triumphed over death, and his spiritual presence is here with us--with everyone who opens their hearts to God’s Love, and his presence gives strength to the weary.  We know what that’s like; we’ve all felt that strength, haven’t we?!

 So “Let us run [this race] with perseverance,” the writer of Hebrews coaches his people--and to encourage them further, he paints a beautiful picture of a “great cloud of witnesses”--spectators who are on the sidelines cheering the runners on.  But the “great cloud of witnesses” is not just a group of spectators.  They are people who were runners once themselves and have already finished the race.  They are people--saints-- who have lived through the ups and downs of life, who have persevered through the struggles themselves, whose faith and hope serve as an example to those of us who are currently struggling.  These witnesses--these saints-- call out to us in words and deeds:

·        Keep going!

·        Don’t give up!  There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

·        Joy awaits you--and can be with you now!

·        It’s worth the struggle!

·        You can do it!

·        God is with you!  We’re with you!

And this is why we celebrate “All Saints” Day.  To recognize the people who have gone before us and run the race of life.  To celebrate that their spirits are now joyfully held in God’s everlasting arms.  To continue to allow their memory and their love and their legacy to inspire our lives today, that we “may not grow weary and lose heart.”   

So, in just a moment, I will read through the list of saints--those whose names came in by email, and those whose names you have typed into the comment section of this livestream.  If you came late into this livestream and missed the announcements, please feel free to type in the name--or names-- of a “saint” you want to remember (someone who has passed, particularly in the last year), and as I read each name, Alan will light a candle symbolizing that their spirits live on and their love continues to light our paths. 

And, if you are watching this livestream at a later date, feel free to call out the name of your saint and light a candle at home to honor their memory.

Let us thank God and celebrate the saints…

I will begin by reading a few names that came in by email:

·        Donald Dauley

·        Dorothy Dauley

·        Phyllis Dempsey

·        Ruth Chism

·        Marcia Crooks

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

*******

Note:  information for this sermon was gathered from the following internet sources:

1)      www.americancatholic.org/features/saintofday/default.asp?id=1187;

2)      wikipedia.org/wiki/all_saints

3)      New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. XII, p. 150

Note:  A version of this sermon was first written and preached by Marlayna in Annisquam Village Church, Gloucester, MA  on November 5, 2006; and another version on nov 2, 2014 in Winchester, MA; and another version on October 30, 2016 in Manchester, NH.

October 25th Sermon: “Swimming Against the Tide”

INTRODUCTION:  Today we have 2 Scripture readings.  The first is from the Gospel of John and talks about a “new commandment” given by Jesus.  The second reading builds on the teachings of the Gospel.  Both readings challenged the churches of the first and second century to live in ways that reflected the love of God.  Let us listen for ways this Scripture might continue to encourage and challenge us in today’s world. 

Scripture:   

John 13:34-35

34I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’

1 John 4:7-12 7Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. 8Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. 9God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. 10In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. 11Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. 12No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.

Sermon:  “Swimming Against the Tide”

A lack of civility seems to characterize much of our American public discourse these days, especially in the political arena.  We hear about it every week in the news.  But lest we think our day and age is worse than others, a journalist writing about political discourse in American History reminds us that “the early days of our nation saw politicians willing to draw guns to defend their political honor - most famously, of course, the duel between …Alexander Hamilton [and Aaron Burr] in 1804. [In fact] Dueling was so pervasive [back in that day and age] that many states tried to outlaw it, but the practice continued in the South until the mid-1800’s…”  Also, the journalist writes about how “Today we lament the incivilities imposed [especially] upon women in politics. But in the 1830s in Philadelphia, while abolitionist Angelina Grimke spoke …[in] the first public debate between a man and a woman at Pennsylvania Hall, an angry mob armed with bricks and rotten tomatoes gathered outside the doors.  Simply because a woman dared to debate a man in public!  [Angelina managed to escape, but] Hours later, the hall was burned to the ground.”  This kind of behavior sounds so outrageous that it’s almost unbelievable—but then, when we remember that this is truth, not fiction, it’s incredibly sobering, especially in light of the violence we’ve seen erupting in our society lately.  (Quotes are from an article entitled:   Think America is uncivil today? Just look at our past”  By Ben Voth, Published: 23 July 2010, dallasnews.com.) 

These true stories of incivility and violence from our country’s history made me think of this morning’s scripture readings—which call Christians to a MUCH higher standard of discourse and interaction than what was just described.  Jesus says:  “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.  Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  After reading through the Scripture, my next thought was a question:  did any of these historical figures who engaged in incivility and violence purport to follow Christ?  To answer that question, I Googled the religious persuasion of Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr—and discovered that both grew up in the Christian faith.  In fact, Aaron Burr even studied for the ministry before becoming a lawyer.  (Christianity today, article by Susan Lim, feb 15, 2016; Adherents.com)  It was a little harder to research the religious persuasion of the brick and tomato wielding mob in 1830, but given that the whole country was in the middle of the Second Great Awakening, it is reasonable to assume that many of them were Christians.  Yet, their incivility and violence fell quite a bit short of the behavioral standard Jesus calls his followers to emulate.   Which leads me to another question:  How can we, as Christians, effectively hold ourselves to the high standard of loving behavior that Jesus calls us to? 

Church consultant, Gil Rendle has written a book called Behavorial Covenants for Congregations, which interim ministers are encouraged to read. It is a book that looks at the dynamics of how people behave in groups in general, and faith communities in particular.  In this book, Rev. Rendle talks about how the culture around us has changed over the years.  He doesn’t go back as far as the 1800’s, but he acknowledges that with each generation, behavioral standards in our country shift. 

In the years following World War II, he says, working together cooperatively in groups was highly valued.  “There was a high demand for order and consensus.”  (Rendle, p. 9.)  In general, people behaved with civility.  So, if you were to pick up a newspaper from, say,1953, you would find more instances of people behaving in concert with Jesus’ commandment to love one another, simply because it fit with the values of the time.  To use a computer analogy, loving one another—or at least treating each other with civility and respect, came more easily back then because it was the “default setting” of the time, the standard that most people understood they should aim for.  (Rendle, p. 19)

However, Rendle points out that as the next generation emerged, the values held by the previous generation were called into question—as they always are.  He’s not saying this questioning was bad in and of itself; he’d be the first to point out that there are the pro’s and con’s in any cultural shift.  What he is saying is that the next generation (the “Baby Boomers,” my generation J) valued individualism over conformity to the group, and in this climate, competition and confrontation began to replace conformity and civility as cultural norms. 

All that to say, our American culture in 2020 is much more confrontational than it was 67 years ago, so it is harder in our society today to find instances of people following Jesus’ commandment to love one another than it would have been in 1953.  Trying to “love one another” in our society today is like swimming against the tide—it takes a lot more effort than it did for our parents and grandparents. 

But, here’s the thing:  even though culture changes, Jesus’ commandment to love one another doesn’t change.  We’re still called to do it, even though it’s hard.  Even though many people around us are not modeling love and civility, we, as followers of Christ, are still called to this high standard. 

But there is good news.  God does not leave us without resources.  Jesus says, “I have given you a new commandment, that you love one another…as I have loved you...”   Interestingly enough, the commandment itself is not new.  We find the same commandment to love our neighbors in the Hebrew Scriptures, in the book of Leviticus, chapter 19, verse 18.  What is new about this commandment given in the gospel of John is that it is based, not on our own strength or stamina, but rather on our relationship with Jesus.  Or, in other words, it is our spiritual connection to the powerful love of God—God living in us, to quote our Epistle reading--that gives us the strength we need to swim against the tide and behave in loving ways toward our neighbors and ourselves. 

The more grounded we are in God’s love, the less we are swayed by the uncivil, unloving behavior of others.

Let me give you an example.  There is a wonderful book I re-read every few years called Let Yourself Be Loved, by a pastoral counselor named Rev. Dr. Phillip Bennett.  In this book Dr. Bennett tells the story of a man named David (not his real name) who struggled with self-esteem and was easily pulled off center by the uncivil, unloving comments of people around him—and even by his own “withering self-judgment.”  (Bennett, p. 22)

David came to Dr. Bennett for counseling, and they worked together to help David see himself differently—to see himself not in a critical light, but rather as a precious child of God, created in God’s image.  Slowly, David’s vision of himself began to change, and      

One day David shared a memory of golf balls he and his brother collected when they were boys.  They lived next to a golf course and spent free time combing the area for stray balls.  David had always imagined that the golf balls were hollow at their core.  Finally he and his brother broke one open, unwinding the rubber bands inside:  [He said,] “It seemed like miles of this rubber-band-like material.  I was sure we would find a hollow center when we unwound this mass of rubber string.  But I was surprised to find this very small but dense core at the center.  [David went on to say] I see that golf ball as a metaphor for myself: I used to be afraid to unwrap all the layers inside me for fear that I would find an empty core.  But instead I’ve found myself, and it’s solid.  It’s such a relief.  I want to tell other people who feel hollow and worthless that they really are worthwhile.  Thank God I’ve finally been able to experience this solid part of myself.”  (Bennett, p. 21)

Dr. Bennett goes on to say that the more we are in touch with the solid center of ourselves, the place where the Love of God resides in our hearts and souls, the less we are affected by the uncivil, unloving behavior of others.  The more we are in touch with the solid center of ourselves, the place where the Love of God resides in our hearts and souls, the more we can, in turn, be loving toward others.

So, my friends, may we too, like David, find the solid core of ourselves, the place where God’s love resides in our hearts and souls.  May we believe that our solid center is good and precious—and if we can’t quite believe it yet—may we ask God to help us believe it in time.  And, unlike many of the behaviors we see in the news, may our behavior flow out of our loving center, and may people say of us that they know we are Christians by our love for each other and the world.  Amen. 

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

[A version of this sermon was first written and preached in May, 2010 in York, Maine; another version preached in Manchester, NH on April 24, 2016; another version was preached on April 29, 2018 in Manchester-by-the-Sea.]

October 18th Sermon: “What Do We Give to God?”

INTRODUCTION:  Today’s Scripture Reading is set by the Lectionary and is often read at this time of year.  Sometimes this reading is seen as supporting “the separation of church and state,” but that was not the original intent of these words.  Rather, Jesus was inviting people to consider a larger question about where their loyalties lie. 

Scripture:  Matthew 22:15-22

15Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap [Jesus] in what he said. 16So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. 17Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” 18But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? 19Show me the coin used for the tax.”  And they brought him a denarius. 20Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” 21They answered, “The emperor’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” 22When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.

 Remembering back when you were a kid growing up, did you ever try to get your friends to say goofy things?  Like the old joke that was popular when I was in first grade:  when you’d vaguely point to a place under a table or some chairs in the lunchroom and you’d say to your friend, “Hey, is that your lunch box under there?”  And your poor, unsuspecting friend would say innocently, “Under where?”  And you’d giggle and say, “You just said ‘underwear”!”

This kind of behavior, trying to trap someone into saying something that they are not aware of, can be amusing if it is done in a good-natured manner, especially by giggly first graders, but it’s not so amusing when it is done with malice.  We see that in today’s Scripture reading—when some Pharisees (a group of religious leaders) are trying to trap Jesus into making a statement regarding paying taxes to the Roman government. 

Paying taxes to the government was a hot topic of conversation in Jesus’ day and age, as it has been in every day and age, including ours.  What is the government’s claim on us?  What should it be? 

Before I go too far down this road and get everyone worked up about taxes, let me go back to the Scripture.  The Pharisees ask Jesus a question about paying taxes, and it is a good question!  It’s important to think about what claims government has on us and whether or not those claims conflict with our calling from God.  But here’s the thing—these particular Pharisees don’t really care about the question!  They don’t care about the claims of the government OR the claims of God—they just care about getting rid of Jesus, who is a threat to their power.  They just want him to go away.   And they figure if they can just get Jesus to say something negative about the government, then the Romans will arrest him and their problem will be solved. 

But their plan doesn’t work.  Jesus outsmarts the Pharisees and gets them—and everyone else—to actually think about the question!  He tells them to “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”  He turns the question back to them and says, in effect, “What do you think?”  What do we—and what should we--give to the government?  What do we—and what should we—give to God? 

Jesus is inviting each of his listeners—in his day and ours-- to answer these questions for ourselves.

Given that our purpose as a church is to worship and serve God, I propose we focus on answering the second question.  What do we—and what should we—give to God?  The obvious answer is, of course, “everything.”  Our Scriptures teach us that God is our Creator--and that all things in heaven and on earth belong to God.

But what does this mean, practically speaking?  Have you thought about that lately?

When I was a little kid, I went to a YMCA day camp.  It was a requirement, as I believe it is at most camps, to have your name written on everything you wore or brought with you to camp.  Your beach bag had to have your name written on it.  Your sweatshirt.  Your bathing suit.  Your bathing cap.  Your beach towel.  Your sneakers.  Your T-shirt.  Your shorts.  Your underwear.  Everything had to be marked, so that it would all go home with you at the end of the day.  I remember my mother had used a black, permanent magic-marker and had written “M. Schmidt” on everything.  And not discretely.  “M. Schmidt” was written on the heel of my sneakers, the cuff of my sweatshirt.  The outside back of my white Camp T-Shirt.  In big letters.  There were other kids at the camp whose mothers were more discrete than mine.  Some of the mothers had actually bought custom-made labels and sewn them into the lining of their children’s clothes.  So that, if you looked inside the collars of their nicely pressed shirts, there would be a lovely white label with tiny red rosebuds on it that read, “This belongs to Laura Lee Chandler.”  (or some name like that.)  (I was a little jealous...)

But here’s my point—what if everything around us had labels like this?  But instead of saying, “this belongs to Laura Lee Chandler” or “M. Schmidt,” the labels would read, “This belongs to God.”  What if our alarm clock went off in the morning and instead of flashing “6:00 A.M.” It flashed, “This day belongs to God!”  What if--when we sat down at our computer to check our email or do our work—what if our computer flashed a screen that said, “This work belongs to God!”  What if when we took out our credit card to order something on line or to buy something at the store, rather than our own name embossed across the card, it read instead, “This belongs to God.”  Would our actions be any different?

This week I invite us all to think about these things--to think about, in word, stewardship.  Stewardship, as defined by the dictionary, is the job of taking care of something that belongs to someone else.  In the church’s definition of stewardship, the “someone else” is specifically identified as God.  

In this past Thursday’s e-blast, beneath the Scripture reading, I wrote 3 things:  “time,” “talent,” “treasure,” with a line next to each one.  I invite you, if you wish, to print out this page from the e-blast to use as “spiritual homework.”   Or--if you prefer-- just jot down some notes based on the slide that is up in the PowerPoint.  If indeed, everything we have--our time, our talent, our treasure--belongs to God (and we are just stewards, taking care of things for God), I invite you (and me) to think about one new way we could give back to God in each of these categories. 

Taking them one at a time…

What is one new way this week we--you and I--could give some time back to God?   Spend some time serving God?

A couple ideas have occurred to me:

·        Could we take 10 minutes to make a phone call to a neighbor, family member, friend, fellow church member we haven’t talked to since Covid started and see how they’re doing? 

·        Maybe we could invite them to come with us to today’s outdoor concert at 4pm? 

·        Or, another idea of how to spend some time serving God:

·        Could we do what one of my neighbors did early in the Covid crisis?  My neighbor across the street contacted other people on our street and created an email and cell-phone list of the people who live right around us, so that we could stay in touch during the crisis.  And, because of that email/texting list, not only have we gotten to know our neighbors better-- We’ve also shared jig saw puzzles, weed whackers, and extra hand sanitizer.  One neighbor even gave away extra rolls of toilet paper when other people’s supply was running low (back when the stores had run out.)  Some ideas to get us all thinking…

Let me move to the next category: 

What is one new way this week we-- you and I--could use our talents for God? 

A couple ideas have occurred to me:

·        Most of us have gotten better at doing tech things since this crisis started--because we’ve had to.  Maybe we haven’t gotten good enough to think of it as a talent, but perhaps we’d call it a talent-in-progress?  For instance, most of us now have Zoom accounts.  We know how to made video calls from our phones and computers.  We know how to watch livestream worship.  Could we use this new budding talent we are developing to help someone else who hasn’t yet developed it? 

·        For instance, could we make a socially distanced visit and show one of our neighbors or friends how to download Zoom?  Or how to access the church website or FaceBook page? 

·        Another idea:  maybe you have a talent for writing.  I know there are a number of excellent writers in this congregation.  Maybe you could send one of your pieces, poems, essays, stories to someone you think might enjoy it.  Send it out with a little note saying “thinking of you.”

·        Just Some ideas to get us all thinking of creative and energizing ways to give back to God…

Let me move to the next category: 

What is one new way this week we could use our treasure for serving God? 

I realize that the Covid crisis has hit many people hard, and our monetary resources may be somewhat--or even severely--diminished due to this fact.  However, if we are able, are there new ways we could use our treasure to serve God this week? 

A couple of ideas that have occurred to me include:

·        Join FFC’s Missions committee in donating to help put together Church World Service Cleanup Buckets for what our website describes as “what is shaping up to be an extremely active Atlantic hurricane season.”  (You can read about this on the church FaceBook page or our Thursday e-blasts.)  For a limited time, it costs only $25 to fill a bucket.  That’s a third of what it usually costs.  A great deal to help people in need. 

·        Another idea for using our treasure for God:  our Stewardship pledge season is starting.  In the next few weeks all church members will receive their pledge letters and cards.  Speaking on behalf of church leadership, echoing words I heard expressed at the last council meeting, we are very grateful for this congregation’s generosity--not only in years past, but especially in 2020, which has been difficult for everyone.  And still, people have given sacrificially.  And, this year, in addition to your generous gifts, we have also received much needed help with the church budget from the PPP loan, thanks be to God and our government.  Next year, in 2021, we will be back to relying solely on our own sources of income, so our pledges will be very important.  I invite you to join me in prayerfully considering making a pledge to God’s work through Franklin Federated Church. 

May God be with us all in this stewardship season as we contemplate the various ways we can give back to God. 

May we be open to the Spirit’s guidance as we once more commit our time, talent, and treasure to serving God and the world that belongs to God.     Amen.

 October 18, 2020

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

An earlier version of this sermon was written and preached by Marlayna in York, ME on October 16, 2011. 

October 11th Sermon - The Story of the Wedding Banquet

INTRODUCTION:  Today’s Scripture Reading comes from the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 22, verses 1 through 14.  It is the third of three parables addressed to religious leaders who have, so far, completely missed the main point of Jesus’ teaching--that the Kingdom of God is open to all who respond to God’s Love and live it out joyfully in their lives.  Parts of this story, as told by Matthew, are rather disturbing to our ears.  Even so, let us listen for the Spirit speaking through these words.

Scripture:  Matthew 22:1-14 (The Message)

The Story of the Wedding Banquet

22 1-3 Jesus responded by telling still more stories. “God’s kingdom,” he said, “is like a king who threw a wedding banquet for his son. He sent out servants to call in all the invited guests. And they wouldn’t come!

4 “He sent out another round of servants, instructing them to tell the guests, ‘Look, everything is on the table, the prime rib is ready for carving. Come to the feast!’

5-7 “They only shrugged their shoulders and went off, one to weed his garden, another to work in his shop. The rest, with nothing better to do, beat up on the messengers and then killed them. The king was outraged and sent his soldiers to destroy those thugs and level their city.

8-10 “Then he told his servants, ‘We have a wedding banquet all prepared but no guests. The ones I invited weren’t up to it. Go out into the busiest intersections in town and invite anyone you find to the banquet.’ The servants went out on the streets and rounded up everyone they laid eyes on, good and bad, regardless. And so the banquet was on—every place filled.

11-13 “When the king entered and looked over the scene, he spotted a man who wasn’t properly dressed. He said to him, ‘Friend, how dare you come in here looking like that!’ The man was speechless. Then the king told his servants, ‘Get him out of here—fast. Tie him up and ship him to hell. And make sure he doesn’t get back in.’

14 “That’s what I mean when I say, ‘Many get invited; only a few make it.’”

Sermon:  “Who Doesn’t Love a Good Banquet?!”

In many ways, the “Parable of the Wedding Banquet” is a very disturbing story.  The main character is a hot-tempered, ego-centric king, a tyrant, who resorts to excessive violence--destroying people and leveling whole cities-- when people don’t do what he demands.  Plus, some of the king’s subjects are no better than the king himself--quick to engage in violence themselves rather than obeying the king’s summons to attend his son’s wedding feast.  And if that’s not disturbing enough, we have the traditional, allegorical interpretation of this parable-- that the tyrant represents God, the first set of murderous subjects represent Israel, and the good and bad people pulled in off the streets represent people of other nations who become the church of Jesus Christ.  And then, down through the centuries, we have the actual misuse of this allegorical interpretation!  Self-proclaimed Christian nations and kings have actually used this text and others like it to condone violence against countries they conquer and colonize.  For instance, “During the colonial era,” New Testament Professor Raj Nadella from Columbia Theological Seminary points out that “British interpreters [of Scripture]… routinely employed texts such as this to justify the empire’s oppressive economic and military policies in India.”  (Prof. Raj Nadella, from http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4613)

Which is absolutely horrible!!!  But such interpretations, painful as they are, need to be named so we can acknowledge the pain they’ve caused and not repeat it.  Interestingly enough, most modern scholars believe that the violent aspects of this parable were later additions--composed by the writer of Matthew’s gospel, and not something Jesus ever said.    Scholars believe this mainly for 2 reasons:  1) The other version of this story, from Luke (chapter 14) is missing all the violent details.  2) The violence in the story mirrors the context in which Matthew was writing--he was writing around AD 70 right after the Romans had ransacked and leveled Jerusalem, when followers of Jesus were beginning to be violently persecuted--by both Rome and some of their fellow Jews.  (In Quest of a Kingdom, Leslie Weatherhead, p. 111-112)

So, all that to say, just because Matthew’s historical context led him to add these violent details, it doesn’t mean that we have to accept his view of God.  In fact, with the benefit of 2000 years of history and Biblical scholarship, we can choose to reject the violent details of this story so that we do not normalize violence in our own lives or give our leaders permission to do so.  In the words of Professor Nadella whom I quoted earlier,

“In a cultural and political context where physical violence towards the other—immigrants, racial minorities, and women—has increasingly become commonplace, it is especially important that our interpretations of scriptures do not inadvertently suggest violence as a manifestation of the divine.”

Okay, so if we reject the violent details of this scripture passage as not originating with Jesus, where does that leave us?  Let me propose that it leaves us with the primary metaphor of this parable--God’s kingdom is like a wedding banquet.  And what an appealing image-- because who doesn’t love a good banquet?!  Let’s spend a moment diving into that image.  I invite you to think back to the favorite weddings you have attended.  Maybe it was your own--or your children’s or your friend’s.  What made it your favorite? 

·        Maybe it was the food and beverages:  Prime Rib.  Pumkin Raviolis.  Peaches and Cream wedding cake.  Champagne    or a certain signature cocktail. 

·        Maybe what made the wedding banquet your favorite was the band-- the best Beatles cover band ever--and you still remember dancing to “Twist and Shout”.  Or maybe it was string quartet playing  “Suite for Cello #1.” 

·        Or maybe it was seeing your whole extended family and all of your best friends gathered in one place under one tent and everyone putting their differences aside in order to celebrate a joyous milestone in a couple’s life. 

·        Or maybe it was the acknowledgement that despite all of the bumps and potholes in what a popular song calls the “broken road of life,” God has actually blessed us all beyond measure. 

And this, my friends, is what Jesus says the Kingdom of God is like--the best wedding banquet you have ever attended.  In a word, it is joy beyond measure. 

And speaking of joy, I am reminded of a quote that Tim Danielson, our Scripture Reader for today brought up at the last youth group meeting.  He was quoting a young person, a member of the youth group, who spoke with wisdom beyond their years when describing the difference between Happiness and joy: 

You can experience Happiness alone,

Joyfulness is a shared experience.   [REPEAT]

That’s profound, isn’t it?!  And so true!! 

And isn’t this joyfulness what we experience when we participate in church, in our community of faith?  I think, sometimes, it is.  I say “sometimes” because--of course--the Kingdom of God and our human concept of church are not exactly the same thing.  The Kingdom of God is infinite and eternal and divine and encompasses the entire universe-- and the church is a human construct that seeks to mirror the kingdom of God.  So the church, being a human institution contains human flaws.  But the church is also a vessel for the Spirit of Christ, so it embodies Christ’s joy.  Or it can.  And it should.  Because this joy is what our world is starving for. 

And we have felt this hunger for joy during this pandemic, haven’t we?  When we haven’t been able to meet in person as a faith community and share our joy the way we are used to doing, it has been a HUGE loss.  In other words, we have been missing the wedding banquet that Jesus describes.  In the words of 20th century English Pastor Leslie Weatherhead, “Jesus is saying to us, ‘What you are looking for I am offering.’  Satisfaction, joy, good fellowship, good will, good humor--all of the things that a feast really means are here and ready.”  (Weatherhead, In Quest of a Kingdom, p. 114)

Pre-covid we knew how to find all of these things by walking into our church building and gathering together in person for worship and other activities.  But how do we find them now, when we can’t gather the way we are used to doing.  Does the wedding feast Jesus describes have to go on hold until the pandemic is over?

No it does not.  The joy of the Lord is not thwarted by a virus.  The joy of the Lord is not thwarted by anything. 

But the feast--the expression of the joy-- will take different forms.  And it already has.  We have been experiencing some of those forms lately.  Last week’s outdoor worship, for instance.  How wonderful it was to see 2 young people--Jake and Hannah give their statements of faith and join the church.  How moving it was to see their families gather around them in prayer.  How inspiring it was to hear from their mentors and to welcome them with joy on this step of their faith journey.  How good it was to share in communion together!  (And thank God for creative entrepreneurs who figured out how to make single serving communion cups, mass produce them, and find an affordable way to sell them to churches! J)  How beautiful it has been to praise God by hearing Julie and Kathy and Alan sing together. 

And on days like today when we don’t meet in person but gather, instead, through a virtual platform--how incredible that we have the technology to livestream sermons and music and scripture and share prayer requests in real time--from our homes. 

And what a joy we can gather in small groups--socially distanced in person, and on line-- to write and talk and study together.  And collect food for the pantry.  And refurbish the church kitchen. 

It’s not the same as it was.  We are not currently able to hug or shake hands or even stand close to each other.  And we need to express our sadness and grieve that loss,  which we hope will not be for too much longer.       BUT in the midst of that grief, we need to remember that the wedding feast is still happening, the joy of the Lord is still present, it is just taking different forms.  May God help us be creatively open to the new forms it is taking. 

The English pastor I quoted earlier--Leslie Weatherhead, writes beautifully about the joy of the wedding feast.  What I didn’t tell you is that he was writing and preaching in London during World  War II.  His congregation was made up of people from all walks of life--he describes them as “cabinet ministers and slum dwellers, middle-class Londoners and visitors from all parts of the world.”   Their church building dated back to the 1600’s and had a beautiful pulpit made of marble.  And then one night, in a literal flash, much of the church building was demolished by the Nazis in a bombing raid.  It was a huge loss--the beauty, craftsmanship and history of a 300 year old building could not be replaced.  But the congregation was resilient and joined with a local Anglican church following the bombing.  And Dr. Weatherhead’s ministry of writing books gained momentum; his books were sold worldwide, introducing the joy of the Lord to a much wider audience.  It wasn’t the same as before.  But Jesus’ joy was not thwarted, even in the midst of great loss.

May we allow the joy of Jesus to grow in us as a congregation--despite the very real losses we experience.  May God continue to help us discover and appreciate new ways of connecting in the midst of this pandemic, that we may continue to share Christ’s joy with our neighbors and the world.  Amen. 

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

September 27th Sermon: “Holding on to Comfort?"

INTRODUCTION:  Our Scripture reading this morning is set by the Lectionary (which is a list of Scripture readings for worship used in many Protestant and Catholic churches.)  It is part of a chapter where Jesus challenges religious leaders to “practice what they preach,” that is, not just talk about God’s love and justice, but actually believe in it and live it out. 

Scripture:  Scripture:  Matthew 21:23-32

                23When Jesus entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” 24Jesus said to them, “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. 25Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” And they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ 26But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.” 27So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.

                28“What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ 29He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. 30The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. 31Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.

Sermon:  “Holding on to Comfort?”

My husband Paul and I love to watch HGTV—Home and Garden television.  We love the “reality” shows where they re-hab—or fix up-- houses.  In one such show, that’s called “Love It or List It,” the story line for each episode goes basically like this:  There’s a couple who own a house together.  One spouse or partner LOVES the house, is deeply attached to it for some sentimental reason:  their kids grew up there, their father built it, it’s the best neighborhood on the planet.  The other spouse or partner HATES the house because it doesn’t function anymore the way they need it to—and, perhaps, it never did.  For instance, there was one episode where a husband didn’t have a closet—he had to keep his clothes in a room down the hall.  In another episode, a wife had to go outside and down a flight of stairs to do laundry—because there was no access to the basement from inside the house.  In another episode, the couple had to sleep in sweatshirts, hats and mittens because there was no heat in the master bedroom.  The big question in each episode is:  can the expert fix the house up enough so that both people LOVE IT, or will the spouse/partner who is uncomfortable win the day and convince the other to sell that house and buy something new?

While it is always interesting to see how each show turns out and what the couple ultimately chooses to do, what I actually find most surprising in each episode is how oblivious and dismissive the spouse who loves the house is to the discomfort of his or her partner, the person for whom the house is not working.  All the person who loves the house can see is how the house meets his or her own needs.

Many of the chief priests, elders, scribes and Pharisees of Jesus’ day were like this.  They were comfortable as leaders of the Temple and were completely oblivious to the discomfort of the people around them.  All they could see was how the Temple met their own needs.  They couldn’t--or wouldn’t-- see how the larger Temple system exploited those who were poor and vulnerable.

And then Jesus comes into the mix.  Like “Demo Day” on a house show where the expert starts demolishing things with a sledge hammer, starts clearing out old walls and cabinets and appliances to make room for a new design that works, Jesus clears bad practices out of the Temple to make room for what is truly important:  meeting the spiritual and physical needs of all God’s people. 

Our Scripture reading this morning, from Matthew Chapter 21, verses 23-32, picks up shortly after the famous passage where Jesus clears out the Temple.  Earlier in chapter 21, verse 12, we read how Jesus overturns the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves (these were the dishonest merchants who cheated poor people out of their hard-earned money.)  If you’ve read this passage, I’m sure you remember it, because Jesus seems really angry--incensed, even.  He says to the money changers and dove-sellers in verse 13, “’My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it a den of robbers.”  Why is Jesus so angry?  Let me answer that:  Because the Temple of God, the very place that should be all about love and justice -- all about welcoming, helping, and healing the poor and vulnerable -- is, instead, exploiting the very people God calls them to embrace.  So Jesus acts decisively, forcefully to return the Temple to its God-given purpose:  being a place where all people--especially the poor and vulnerable-- can find comfort, healing, hope, help and connection to God.

But the leaders of the Temple--the chief priests, elders, scribes and Pharisees-- aren’t happy about Jesus clearing out the Temple like this.  Why?  Because now people will be expecting them, the religious establishment, to follow Jesus’ lead and start doing something radically different.  Now people will be expecting the religious leaders to:

·        Start living out God’s love and justice instead of just teaching about God’s law. 

·        Start welcoming the poor, the lame, the blind, widows and orphans instead of standing by and letting them be exploited by an unjust system. 

·        Start praying and working for their healing, instead of judging them and declaring them unclean.

And that’s where today’s reading picks up.  In today’s Scripture reading, we find the religious establishment, the chief priests, elders, scribes and Pharisees questioning Jesus’ authority—questioning him not because they think he’s wrong, but because they know that if they don’t stop him, they will have to change—have to change their behavior, and possibly even their minds and their hearts.  And they don’t want to do that, because they are too comfortable.  Like the oblivious spouses in the house show that I described, leaders of the religious establishment of Jesus’ day were holding on to their own comfort at the expense of the people around them.

Which brings me to a question.  “Where am I doing that?”  “Where in my life am I holding on to my own comfort at the expense of someone around me?”  That is a question this Scripture challenged me with this week, and I offer it to you to ponder as well.  “Where in your life are you holding on to your own comfort at the expense of someone else?” 

To go back to the house show analogy:  Metaphorically (or literally):  Where am I hogging the closet space?  Where have you blocked the door to the laundry room?  Where have we shut off the heat? 

Have we done that at work?   At home?  At church?   Where are we holding on to our own comfort at the expense of someone else?  Maybe it’s not blatant.  And maybe it’s not that we are actively harming someone.  Maybe it’s more that being comfortable with life as we have known it is stopping us from seeing or acknowledging the ways that injustice embedded in our systems is hurting other people. 

The chief priests, elders, and Pharisees of Jesus day weren’t horrible monsters or even really bad people.  They were human beings with gifts and flaws, like us.  In fact, at the beginning of the gospel of Matthew, we read that many Pharisees came out to hear John the Baptist preach his message of repentance.  The problem is, when push came to shove, as a group, they didn’t act on what they heard.  They didn’t change their ways.  Comfortable in their own lives, they did not challenge the injustice embedded in the system of religious life that they had control over.  They stood by and allowed the poor and vulnerable to continue to be hurt--by practices in the Temple that they had the power to stop.

My brothers and sisters in Christ--let us not make the same mistake.  This Covid crisis and the protests around racism have laid bare some of the deep flaws and inequities in the various systems of our society--health care, education, criminal justice, to name a few.  Hearing about these flaws and inequities makes us all uncomfortable.  But we cannot close our ears and our hearts--we cannot stand by while the poor and vulnerable continue to hurt.  We cannot allow polarizing political rhetoric--or our own fear of change--stop us from doing the hard work of naming injustice and working together to reform our systems. 

I believe we can talk together, despite whatever political differences we may have, and we--as a church and as a society-- can begin to name some of the injustice that we see in our society and our world. 

For instance, I believe we can voice support for police officers and still name the ways our criminal justice system needs to change in order to be more fair to our black and brown brothers and sisters.

I believe we can stand with the protestors and listen to the stories of black and brown people who have experienced racism without condoning violence or rioting.

One way we can begin to practice doing this--naming injustice and looking for ways to work together to make positive change-- is by taking part in the virtual book group led by Peggy Maxwell and Jean Southard, that starts in October and asks the question, “Are we a racist society?”  I’ve read the book that they will be studying--and it helped open my eyes in many ways, including naming privileges that I’ve taken for granted as a white person, privileges that are not available to our black brothers and sisters. 

May Jesus be with us all as we follow Jesus’ example and live out God’s love and justice in our daily lives.   May Jesus be with us and use us to change and bless the world.  Amen.

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

(Earlier versions of this sermon were written, edited and preached in September of 2014 and 2017)

September 20th Sermon: “The Rich Man and Lazarus”

INTRODUCTION to the Scripture:

Today’s Scripture reading is one of the parables--or stories-- that Jesus told.  His point in telling parables was to get people to question the status quo and consider how God might be calling them to change their thinking and behavior.  Let us listen for God’s Spirit, which is still speaking through these words...

Scripture:  Luke 16:19-31
19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side.   24He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.’ 25But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ 27He said, ‘Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— 28for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ 29Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ 30He said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ 31He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”

Here ends the reading.  May God bless our hearing--and acting--on these words.

INTRODUCTION to Sermon:

Rather than preaching a traditional sermon this morning, I’ve decided to follow the tradition of Jesus and the prophets, and tell a story.  The gospel reading for today is the parable entitled “The Rich man and Lazarus,” and the story I’m telling today is based on that.  I tried to imagine what part of that story might look like in the context of our day and age and culture.  I changed many details, of course, but I tried to stay true to the sense of the parable, basing my musings on the details of the original text.  For instance, the detail of the rich man wearing “purple and fine linen” implied that he was a high ranking government official or member of the royal family, because in Jesus’ day and age, the Romans had laws determining who could wear purple and exactly how much purple they could wear!  (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. IX, p. 316)  So, in this modern-day-retelling of the parable, I have imagined the rich man to be a member of the government.  More importantly, however, I have tried to maintain the purpose of a parable, which is to draw those who “have ears to hear” into the story, inviting us to imagine ourselves as one of the characters and to ask ourselves, how would God want me to respond if I were in their shoes? 

Sermon:  “The Rich Man and Lazarus”

The steel gray Mercedes Benz Luxury Sedan pulled up in front of the wrought iron security gate and came to a stop.  Senator Smith, dressed impeccably in an Armani suit, was in the back seat of the car.  He was busy checking stocks on his smartphone, when his chauffeur interrupted, “Um, Senator?  I think we may have a problem.”

“Richard, can’t you see I’m right in the middle of something?  What is it?”  Senator Smith did not like to be interrupted.   

“There’s a man in front of the gate, sir, and he doesn’t look well,” his chauffeur replied.

Senator Smith leaned forward and craned his neck to see past his chauffeur to the man lying in front of the gate on the crushed shell driveway that led up to the Senator’s mansion on the hill.  The man was dressed in faded blue jeans with grass stains on his knees and an old cotton T-Shirt with a logo that looked a bit familiar to the Senator, but he couldn’t quite place it.  The man’s eyes were closed, and his gaunt arms and legs were splayed out in front of him.  The man was barefoot and had sores on his feet, face, and arms.  He reminded Senator Smith of an AIDS patient he’d seen once on a trip to Africa.  Not a pretty site.  The Senator turned his head away and settled back against the smooth leather car seat.   He closed his eyes and tried to get the picture of the man out of his head.

“Call security and have them take care of it,” Senator Smith directed his chauffeur.  “I don’t want to be late for dinner.  Mrs. Smith has hired a new chef, and he’s serving Filet Mignon tonight with a braised onion sauce.  I don’t want to miss it.” 

“I’m happy call to security, Sir,” the chauffeur replied, “but I’m afraid we’re stuck here for the moment.  The gate is not going to open with the man in front of it like that.  And, um, do you want me to get out and at least make sure he’s still alive?” 

Senator Smith let out an exasperated sigh, “No, stay where you are.  I’ll take care of it.”  He pressed a button on the door panel and the back window went down a few inches.  Senator Smith yelled out, “Excuse me.  Excuse me!  I’m not sure who you are or what you want, but you are trespassing on private property, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The man opened his eyes and propped himself up to a sitting position, his back against the gate.  He spoke in a clear but weak voice.  “Senator Smith, as one of your constituents, may I please have a moment of your time?” 

Senator Smith was momentarily taken aback by how articulate and polite the man seemed, but he quickly recovered his composure and responded like the consummate politician that he was, “Well, yes, certainly, you may have a moment of my time, but you’ll have to call my office and make an appointment like everyone else.”

“I’ve already tried that,” the man said, “but it seems you are too busy to see someone like me.”

“I am busy,” the Senator said, “but if you give me your name and number, I’ll ask my secretary Connie to schedule you in at the beginning of next week.”

“Next week, I may not still be around.”  The man rubbed one of the sore spots on his arm and continued, “I lost my job when I got sick, and I have no health insurance.  My wife generally works two jobs, but they were both part-time, and she lost one in the Covid crisis.  We haven’t been able to pay our full rent since last April, and we can’t even afford to feed the kids properly.  My wife and I often skip meals so we have more to give to them—       

“Look,” Senator Smith interrupted, and he lowered the car window another few inches, “I am sorry about your predicament, truly I am.  I voted to pass the Affordable Care Act and I’m doing what I can to pass another stimulus bill, but there is gridlock in Washington right now, and there is only so much I can do.”  The Senator sat up straighter and continued as if he were addressing a television audience, “But I promise you, I will continue to fight for the rights of hardworking Americans—“

“Excuse me.”  It was the man’s turn to interrupt.  “I know your voting record, Senator, and I appreciate that you do what you can for people like me, but I was hoping for help that was a little more immediate.  Can you spare something from your own table, Mr. Smith?  Even a basket of bread would be nice.  Plus, if you’ve got it, $157 would cover our electric bill for this month.” 

For the first time in his life, Senator Smith was speechless.  He’d seen his share of panhandlers in the city, of course, but no one had ever asked him, personally, by name, to help cover their daily living expenses.  He was tempted to help the man, but what if the press got wind of it and word got out?  Everyone and their brother would be showing up at his gate looking for a handout.  Plus, was this man really his responsibility?  The Senator already represented him in Washington, wasn’t that enough?  The Senator thought to himself, “Doesn’t this man have anyone else in his own family he could ask to lend a hand?” 

As he was pondering a response, suddenly Senator Smith heard a shriek of glee coming from behind the gate.  His 7 year old daughter and their golden retriever were running down the driveway toward the car.  “Daddy, you’re home!” 

Senator Smith jumped out of the car and put his hands up in a stop position.  “Stop right there, sweetheart, Daddy will be with you in a minute.”  He did not want his daughter to see the sick man sprawled in the driveway.  He was afraid she would be traumatized.  The little girl stopped, but the dog kept coming and squeezed through a spot in the hedge next to the gatepost.  Tail wagging a mile a minute, the dog immediately ran over to the man and gently and tenderly began licking the sores on his feet. 

“Luke, stop that,” Senator Smith commanded the dog, but the dog didn’t listen. 

“What’s Luke doing, Daddy?” the little girl wanted to know.  She advanced toward the gate, despite her father’s command. 

“I said, ‘Stop right there!’”  Senator Smith barked.  But the little girl had already reached the gate, which was still closed so she could not get through.  She wrapped her hands around one of the decorative, wrought-iron scrolls and poked her little head through the lattice work.  She looked down on the man--and smiled with surprise.

“Lazarus, is that you?”  The little girl asked.

“You know this man?”  Senator Smith was astonished.

“Duh, Daddy,” she sounded exasperated.  “Of course I know him.  He’s mowed our lawn every week since I was in kindergarten, but I haven’t seen him lately.  Is he coming to dinner?” 

For the second time in one day, Senator Smith didn’t know what to say.

“Well, is he, Daddy?  Is he coming to dinner?  Aren’t you going to let him in?  Aren’t you going to let him in?

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Interim Pastor

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

 *****

(Earlier versions of this sermon were written/edited by Marlayna and preached on 9/30/07 and 9/29/13)

September 13th Sermon: “Nip It in the Bud”

INTRODUCTION:  Today’s Scripture Reading is regularly read in churches at this time of year.  In this passage, Jesus gives his followers practical advice regarding how to handle it if a member of the church sins against them.  Although this advice is nearly 2000 years old, it can still help us navigate the sometimes challenging waters of interpersonal interactions within Christian Community.  Let’s listen for God’s Spirit speaking through these words.

Scripture:  Matthew 18:15-20

15 [Jesus said:]  “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. 16But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. 17If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax-collector. 18Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. 19Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. 20For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

Here ends the reading.  May God bless us as we consider how we might act on these words.

Sermon:  “Nip It in the Bud”

I am guessing that all of us are familiar with the classic movie the Wizard of Oz.  There is a scene close to the beginning of the movie where the character who later becomes the Wicked Witch of the West--Almira Gulch-- has arrived with an unjust order from the Sheriff to take away Dorothy’s little dog Toto.  Not wanting to break the law, Auntie Em feels compelled to hand the dog over to the mean old lady, but she’s not happy about it.  At this point, you probably all remember Auntie Em’s famous response, “Almira Gulch…for 23 years I’ve been dying to tell you what I think of you, and now…well…being a Christian woman, I can’t…!” 

Apparently Auntie Em never read Jesus’ teaching in today’s gospel lesson, which is amazingly powerful.  Verse 15:  “If another member of the church sins against you, wait 23 years… [No!  he says, “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”  Wow.  I think this is one of Jesus’ most powerful teachings—and one of the hardest to follow!  Perhaps because it goes against our natural tendencies and the ways we’ve been conditioned in polite, Christian society to behave.  I don’t know about you, but when someone sins against me—says or does something that offends me or hurts my feelings in a big way, my natural, gut response is like Auntie Em’s.  I want to give the person a piece of my mind.  And not in a kind way.  I want to lash out and hurt them like they have hurt me.  But because, like Auntie Em, I believe that Jesus, who preached love for our enemies, would not condone this kind of intentionally hurtful, “lashing out” behavior, my second gut response is generally also like Auntie Em’s.  Rather than lash out in an un-Christian way, I tend to bite my tongue and not say anything. 

At least not to the person who offended me.  My third gut response would normally be in a category of behavior that I should have left behind when I graduated from junior high.  That is, I am tempted to revert to my immature, teenage self and pick up the phone and call a friend to complain.  “You won’t believe what so and so just said to me!”  But, let me be clear, just because I am tempted to do that, it doesn’t mean it is the right—or even a helpful—thing to do.  In fact, as I bet we have all discovered at some point in our lives, talking about another person to someone else doesn’t resolve a conflict, it only serves to pull another person into the middle of our conflict, AND it escalates the conflict to another level.  Instead of being a conflict or a hurtful issue between 2 people, it now becomes a conflict or an issue between 3 people—and then from there it can expand and take on a life of its own and it can even turn into a disruption that reverberates throughout the whole church community.

Now, let me just stop here and say that I’m talking about all this because I’m pretty sure that I’m not the only one who has been involved in situations like this.  I think most of us in churches generally tend to behave like Auntie Em and avoid speaking directly to the person who offends us.  Part of our reason for that is what I’ve already mentioned, we don’t want to lash out and hurt the person back like they’ve hurt us.  And that is commendable.  But this is not an either/or situation—either we lash out and hurt someone back or we say nothing.  There is a way of speaking directly to a person who has hurt us that doesn’t hurt them back.  In fact, it can help them--and us--grow in faith and it can strengthen the church community.  Or, as the Apostle Paul has said in Ephesians 4, it can “build up the Body of Christ.” 

This kind of “community building” conversation is what Jesus is talking about here.  We can go to the person one-on-one, and, in a loving way, we can say something simple like, “The other day when you said or did “such and such,” I felt hurt.  And I wondered what was up with that…” 

Now, as an interim minister, I have had perhaps more occasions than most to be in situations where I’ve needed to go and speak directly to someone who has hurt or offended or sinned against me, and I’m not going to tell you that’s it’s easy to do.  In fact, I still find it one of the hardest things about Christian life and ministry.  One reason it’s hard is because most of us, myself included, want to be liked.  And when you speak directly to someone about a time when you’ve been hurt, there is always the risk that the person won’t respond well.  There is always the risk that the person will get even more angry at you and cause a ruckus.  And who wants or needs that!!?  It’s scary.  It’s uncomfortable.  And, in the short run, it can cause even more disruption in the Body of Christ.

But, I’ve got to tell you, 9 out of 10 times that I’ve bitten the bullet and gone to someone and spoken kindly and directly about a time when I have been hurt, I have been overwhelmingly surprised and grateful at how God has blessed the conversation.

Let me give you an example.  In one church I served—ages ago, not this one—there was a dedicated lay leader whose behavior we might call “controlling.”  I had several people in the church complain to me, one-on-one, about this woman’s behavior.  (I’m going to refer to her as “Edna,” which is not her real name.)  Every time someone would complain to me about Edna’s behavior, I’d stop them and ask, “Have you spoken to Edna directly about this?”  “Oh, no,” they’d say, “I couldn’t do that.”   “Why not?” I’d ask.  Answers would vary.  Let me give you a sampling:

·        “She does so much for the church, I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

·        “She wouldn’t take it well.” 

·        “She’s not going to listen to me; she never does.” 

·        “She’s my neighbor and I have to live with her.  She might take it out on me.  I don’t want to risk it.”

·        “It could cause division in the church.”  

·        And my all time favorite response, “I don’t confront people.  It’s just not who I am.  Why don’t you do it?  You’re the pastor.  Isn’t that your job?” 

When people said these things, I would bring up Matthew 18 and try to explain that, “Because the incident happened between YOU and Edna, it can only be resolved by YOU and Edna.  I can’t resolve it for you.  No one else can.  That’s simply the nature of these things.  I can pray with you and coach you about what to say to Edna--and if she doesn’t respond well when you talk with her, I can go with you a second time-- for moral support and to witness the conversation.  But that’s all I can do.”  Sadly, in that congregation, no one, to my knowledge, at least not during the time I was there, followed up with Edna.

And then it happened.  Edna stepped on my toes.  She directly offended me, tried to control me, hurt my feelings, and then I was forced to practice what I preach!  (Hate that!)  I knew I had to go to Edna directly, but I gotta tell you, it was the last thing I wanted to do.  I found myself repeating—to God in prayer—many of the “excuses” that others had used:

·        “God, you know she’s not going to listen to me.”

·        “She’s not going to take it well.”

·        I’ve got to work with her.  It’s too risky. 

·        What if she causes a big stink in the church?” 

And God said to me, “Matthew 18.  Practice what you preach.”  Darn it.

To make a long story short, I called Edna and asked to meet with her.  She agreed.  And I started praying, hard.  I even called a friend who is deeply spiritual and said, “What are you doing this morning?  Do you have some time to pray with me about something?”  And I prayed with my friend in advance of my meeting with Edna for 45 minutes. 

And, you know what?  God is good.  When I met with Edna, I felt incredibly peaceful and centered.  I was focused on her, not my own fear.  And I explained simply how I felt hurt by her behavior.  I was careful not to sound harsh and accusatory.  (I didn’t go into other people’s experience, that was their business, not mine.  I just focused on my experience with her.)  And I then asked her what was going on with her.  And the flood gates opened.  She talked about all the chaos and pain in her life and with her kids and how she felt out of control in every area except the church. 

I couldn’t believe it.  I had no idea of the depth of her pain.  And I wouldn’t have had any idea if I’d never taken the risk to talk with her.  Edna didn’t miraculously change over night, but she did step back from some of the things at church she was trying to control.  And my attitude toward her changed.  It felt like a gift from God.  I was able to let go of my anger and frustration with her, and my compassion for her began to grow.  When she stepped on my toes again, it was much easier to say something to her in a loving way and “nip it in the bud” rather than stew about it.  

My brothers and sisters in the Lord, I’d like to say that in the church, no one ever offends or hurts another person, but, sadly, that’s just not the case.  We are all flawed human beings, and hurting each other--mostly unintentionally-- is inevitable.  However, I commend to you Jesus’ teaching from our reading for today.  “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.  If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.”  And, from my experience, 9 out of 10 times, that is exactly what happens.  May God give us the courage to talk directly with each other, even when it’s difficult.  And may God bless all our conversations for the sake of Christ and the church community.  Amen.

Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt

Franklin Federated Church

Franklin, MA

(An earlier version of this sermon was first written and preached in York, ME on September 4, 2011)