Moriah Hurst: I’ve got the power

Roots and Tendrils: God Grows a People
“Repentance and Community”
2 Samuel 11:1-5, 26-27; 12:1-9; Psalm 51:1-9

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I’ll admit it. I find it hard to like David. Particularly the David we read about in today's passages. When I am teaching with youth I often used the Brick Testament, or the bible portrayed in Legos. This section is called “David commits adultery and murder”. Such light topics for a beautiful Sunday morning. This picture with Bathsheba is not the most explicit. When I use these pictures for some of these harder stories in the bible, I often show this warning that is on the website. 

“CONTENT NOTICE - The Bible contains material some may consider morally objectionable and/or inappropriate for children. These labels identify stories containing: nudity, sexual content, violence, cursing”

Ok, let go back to the stories about David. He gets all the warnings. I like to wrestle with this. Should our Bibles have warnings on them? This isn’t clean, this is problematic. The span of todays text covers war, rape, murder, cover ups, refering to women as sheep and possesions…and the list goes on. So I will say at the outset this is a lot. Please take care of yourself.  For some of you I will say too much this morning and for some of you I will not say enough. That is part of the challenge when we study this book together.

So let's dive into today's texts.

In the Spring time when kings go out to battle. David sends his officers and armies and all of Israel to war. And David stays in Jerusalem. The text seems to almost mock David or at least present some commentary because not only does he not go fight with his people, which is what a king is supposed to do. David is shown reclining on a couch. He rises leisurely and saunters across his roof in the cool evening breeze. This is the picture of a king not leading his people but basking in his power and privilege.

Before we go on, let's review some of David’s story so far. In the books of 1st and 2nd Samuel we have been following the stories of prophets and kings and God working through them to lead the people. David was not the first pick of his fathers sons, he was the little guy chosen after all his brothers had been paraded in front of Samuel. But David goes on to be wise and fast in his defeat of Goliath. He gains favor and grows in power. Then there is a power struggle with Saul which leaves David fleeing for the hills and safety at points. When Saul dies and David finally becomes King he is the second king of Israel and he consolidates the power of Judah and Israel, and brings the ark of the covenant to Jerusalem. David’s power keeps building.

Yet as David walks across the roof and looks down at Bathsheba bathing, it is the beginning of a shift for him. And I have to ask: did his power get too great?

David sends someone to inquire about this beautiful woman he has seen. And even though he is told she is married he sends for her and lays with her. Many of you may remember my retelling of those few verses a few weeks ago when I preached about Ruth and Boaz on the threshing floor. How you tell this part of the story matters.

Jo Ann Hackett writes in the Women’s Bible Commentary that “The only hint that (Bathsheba) might have cooperated willingly in her predicament is her initial act of bathing in a place where she could be observed by the king out walking on his roof.” Women’s Bible Commentary, p. 159

David has all the power in this situation and he uses it to avoid standing with his armies and instead takes and rapes a married woman just because he can.

One podcast I listened to this week encouraged the listener to read the bible and then to look for the contemporary story. And it breaks my heart that there are too many stories like this that I know and that we see today.

I’m tired, maybe you are too. Tired of men with power following the same script of using that power to take advantage of others, often sexually. Tired of systems that not only don’t stop them but actually set them up without accountability and without boundaries around the power they hold. This week I saw the trailer for a movie that is trying to tell the victims' side of the story. The fear, hurt and resistance to stand up against the powerful man who hurt them, that I saw even in that 30 second clip, made me cry.

Yes, David was a man of God, chosen to lead his people in a particular time and way. But when the checks are taken away from someone's power and they think that others are only there to serve them, destructive things can happen.

Hackett notes that “David’s affair with Bathsheba the wife of one of his soldiers, is a watershed, marking the beginning of a downward spiral for David and his family” Women’s Bible Commentary, p. 151

At this point the narrative lectionary has us jump over 20 verses. We skip David’s repeated attempts to cover up what he has done. The ways he tries to control the situation to get himself out of a tight spot. It doesn’t seem that he actually wanted Bathsheba as a wife, more he just wants to cover up that he got her pregnant - the evidence that he slept with another man’s wife. Bathsheba, like so many in women’s bodies, had to carry all of the responsibility of what had been done to her. She could not hide and pretend the life growing in her didn’t exist. Eventually when Bathsheba’s husband Uriah proves over and again how good and faithful of a man he is, staying with his post and duty instead of returning home to his wife; a stark contrast to David’s sitting in Jerusalem while his armies go to war. David has Uriah sent to the front lines of battle and then pulls the troops back. Uriah is predictably killed. David lets Bathsheba grieve for an appropriate time and then sends for her and makes her his wife. 

And then we finally get a line I’ve been waiting for: “But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord” Well I sure hope so! The God I read about in the bible would be weeping and raging right along with me.

Enter Nathan. And like many good prophets and teachers, Nathan shows up and tells a story. There was a rich man and a poor man. Their wealth is measured in this story in their amount of sheep. One has many flocks and the other has one precious lamb. The rich man’s friend comes to town and instead of going to his own herds he goes and takes the beloved lamb from his neighbor. Slaughters it, and serves it to his guest.

When I was 8 years old my family lived here in Virginia, out along the old Mt Clinton Pike. We had about an archer and we worked with a few local farmers to raise lambs. When a mother sheep would have triplets or a lamb that she could not feed, we would take it and raise the lamb by hand. This meant feeding with bottles every few hours, even through the middle of the night or in the wee hours of the morning. These lambs become our pets. They came when we called. We carried them around and ran with them in the field. 

One snowy morning I woke and wandered into the living room still yawning, to find my Mom crying and visibly distraught. In the early morning a local dog had gotten into the field and chased our lambs. The dog killed one lamb and maimed the other two. In the freshly fallen snow you could see the trail of both the chase and the damage done. The thing was the dog was well fed, he wasn’t hungry. He had just done it for fun. Literally running our lambs to death while biting at them. 

I think I can tap into some of the anger, pain and senselessness that David might have felt as he heard Nathan tell this parable. It just feels wrong! How could this happen? But then Nathan turns and I imagine him looking David in the eye as he says sternly “You are the man”. Nathan goes on to list all that God has given David. And then says “and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more”. Nathan asks the question that might be in many of our minds “Why have you despised the word of the Lord, to do what is evil in God’s sight?” This king who has done so much for the people and been given so much from God and yet he takes what wasn’t his and throws away the life of a good man just because he can.

Lest we get carried away pointing fingers at all the people we see reflected in these stories that we could condemn. Instead of just shaking our heads in disgust, I invite you to see yourself in this story. Which character would you be in this text? When have we misused our power, sinking into our privilege to the point that our actions hurt others? Or are we the abused, our voice not included in the narrative that is just a sterilized version of what has been done to us. How might Nathan turn this text back to our lives and with the sting that a parable often has in its tail, what truth might he speak into our own contemporary situation?

Hold that raw space with me. I’m going to invite April to come and read for us part of Ps 51. Hear these words as David might have. Holding the brokenness we see and have experienced. The wrong we have done and the wrong done to us.

——— 

Maybe later today you want to go back to that Psalm and reread it, along with the verses we didn’t hear today. Because David turned and called out to God and he was not abandoned. Yes, there were consequences that David and his family had to live with. But even when we have done the worst thing, God still calls us beloved. This makes me squirm both in its injustice and in its grace and mercy. I can not do anything that will make God love me less or more. Does God grieve at injustice and at oppression? I sure hope so. But does God cast us away? No, never. We may feel like that, but God relentlessly returns as God did with David, saying I love you, try again. 

But it doesn’t stop there. Once we know of God’s love and forgiveness we are called to turn and make things right with others, turning back and restoring. 

Can we make an honest confession before God and then turn and work towards restoring our relationship with the community around us?

I want us to end today with a simple yet powerful prayer.

Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me a sinner

How do we bring both our confession and our need for God’s love to this space. God is steadfast, abounding in mercy. I invite you to read aloud together and then I will leave space for you to repeat it quietly for yourself.

Beloved, may God give you strength and wisdom to use your power for good in this world. Amen

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John Stoltzfus: Liberated to Choose

Roots and Tendrils: God Grows a People
“Saying Yes Again”
Joshua 24:1-26; Matthew 4:8-10

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If there is a soundtrack for our scriptures today, I suggest the song Gotta Serve Somebody by the poet and prophet Bob Dylan. His voice is in tune with Joshua’s pep talk to the people of Israel and Jesus’ response to the devil in the wilderness. 

If you listen to the whole song, Dylan lets no one off the hook, including the preacher when he sings, “You may be a preacher with your spiritual pride but you gonna have to serve somebody." Right on!

Dylan drives home the point that for everyone, who or what we will serve is a question that cannot go unanswered.

I confess that I was not inspired when I saw the texts for this Sunday after agreeing to preach. For one, the Joshua narrative of the conquest of Canaan is filled with troublesome language for our modern ears, suggesting near annihilation of a people and forced land displacement. We have to wrestle with difficult questions of interpretation, particularly in light of how this has been used throughout history to justify, by divine right, forced displacement of other peoples. With the recent marking of Columbus Day, we have to acknowledge that we are beneficiaries of displacement ourselves.

But this question will have to wait for another study or a longer sermon! I have appreciated our series with the narrative lectionary, so far, in asking some of the deeper questions about the why and the context of these stories in the Hebrew Bible, some of which are hard to interpret. In our journey through the Hebrew Bible, we’ve learned that we serve a loving God who is deeply committed to our liberation, who is biased toward the poor and their well-being, and a patient God who is in faithful covenant with us even when we fail.

Another reason I’m not drawn to this story is because it feels like the phrase “as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord” has been cheapened by its appearance on too many tacky wall hangings above a couch in a cozy living room. Do we really know what this declaration means, and do our lives give evidence of it?  Joshua’s clarion call to the people of Israel to make a decision of whom they will serve sounds very much like an evangelical preacher making an altar call. If only it were that easy to walk the sawdust trail to the altar in response.

As a child, I used to read these stories of the Israelites like it was a tragic novel. For a time the people would be faithful in worshiping Yahweh, then a period of falling away and worshiping idols, then a period of defeat at the hand of some enemies, and then a period of repentance and restoration. And repeat. I was perplexed as to why it was so hard for the people of Israel to do the right thing and stay focused.

One of the things that strikes me in this passage is that Joshua essentially dismisses the people's promise to serve the Lord by saying that they are going to go right back to doing whatever they want. He knows their wandering ways. Which begs the question: Are we being honest both institutionally and individually about the many ways we fail to live up to some of our stated ideals and values as followers of Jesus?

One thing that was helpful for me in researching this text is that this narrative of Joshua was most likely compiled much later on when the Israelites were in exile.  It is written from the perspective of a people who had seemingly failed in their commitment to follow Yahweh and had lost everything.

So maybe this story is asking the question: Do we only get one opportunity to do it right? The whole biblical narrative, in addition to the book of Joshua, is one of God’s constant steadfast love and persistent patience with God’s people. Yes, they do not get it right all the time; in fact, quite often they do not, but that does not keep God from pursuing them. This grand story shows God to be a relentless and creative pursuer of people who does not give up on seeking to liberate us to choose life and to flourish in all the abundance that God has given us. And that is good news indeed!

Whatever Joshua was trying to do to prepare the people for entering the land of Canaan, the editors of the scroll of Joshua are preparing its readers for the rest of the story. And now we add our own stories in the mix.  

Can we see that the challenges of idolatry are as present today as they were in Joshua’s time?  In whom or what do we place our security and hope?

Consider this:
When we see that there are more guns in this country than there are people and that our nation invests more in the military than the next 9 top countries of the world combined. Is this what we believe makes us safe? Is this not idolatry?
Many of us look for financial security in bulking up our retirement accounts, life insurance policies and investment portfolios. What does this indicate about what we trust for the future?
Today our political party of choice may indicate more about what we believe and value than our particular faith tradition. What does this tell us about our loyalties?
In the US the average amount of living space per person in a new house has doubled in my lifetime. What does that reveal about our deepest values?
In the US we continue to use fossil fuels at a much higher rate than our neighbors around the world yet it is the poorest in our world who are suffering the most from climate change. What does this say about our capacity to serve a God who cares the most for the vulnerable among us?
Are we any less distracted by idols or any more capable of following God than were Joshua’s listeners?

Who will we serve? We have choices at the intersection of everything that distracts us from that which is truly life giving for ourselves and our neighbor.

As a church, as families and as individuals, we have decisions to make everyday big and small. Can we with our choices reflect the purposes of God to our children and the watching world around us?

There is much in our world that would try to convince us that we don’t have a choice in living closer to our stated values saying “This is just the way things are.”
A recent revelation to Paula and me was our decision to replace one of our vehicles with an e-bike. For so long we simply assumed that with two drivers and kids we needed two cars. But after one of our cars stopped working we discovered that in our current situation we don’t need two cars. Granted we still drive a gas sucking minivan and this choice is an incredibly privileged and irrelevant one in comparison to the living standards of most of our neighbors in the world but I count it as one small step. And it makes me question what other assumptions about my choices in lifestyle need examination and liberation. I am inspired by the way I see many of you live out your values in generous and sacrificial ways.

We need good questions to help clarify our purpose and focus in this world of constant distraction that pulls us in so many different directions. We live in a smorgasbord of choices that often create more anxiety and stress than freedom. We need this liberating gift of God to choose life; to choose those things that are in tune to the character of a God who came close to us in the person and life of Jesus.

So, while I was not initially inspired by this story from Joshua, after sitting with a scripture text for a longer period of time, reading how others have interacted with this story (and listening to a bit of Bob Dylan), new insights and relevancy emerges. I'm drawn to this story in that it might help us to ask clarifying questions about the choices we make, big and small. What are the deeper values that guide us? How do our ongoing choices and decisions reflect the God we claim to serve?

I’m curious how you would respond to some of these questions. I’m very grateful that Christopher and Obie are going to offer some of their own reflections in wrestling with these questions.

What choices do you face in your household in saying "yes" to the values that reflect your commitment to following in the way of Christ and saying "no" to some of the temptations and distractions of the culture around us? Do you have a story to share about what these choices look like in your household?

————

All of our choices and decisions reveal that we are a complicated mix of values and ideals. We need to hold our complicated stories reverently but lightly, to let them exist in creative tension with who we are seeking to become. We are not the sum of all our failures and weaknesses but the sum of a loving God who is liberating us to become a more just and merciful people in the image of Christ. I think this is part of what we are called to choose as Christ's followers. "Choose this day whom you will serve." May we choose a God who is unimaginably bigger than the stories we tell. A God whose every story begins and ends in love.


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Phil Kniss: Ten words sweeter than honey

Roots and Tendrils: God Grows a People
A Plan for Human Flourishing
Exodus 19:3-7; 20:1-17; Psalm 19:7-10; Matthew 5:17

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Again I’m lucky to preach from a text that is, at the same time
    widely known and widely misunderstood.
I say I’m lucky
    because I’m always up for knocking down stereotypes,
    and messing with people’s assumptions.
Because I think we are wiser people,
    if we are willing to question assumed meanings,
    and look more deeply and thoughtfully.

That’s true for a lot of the Hebrew Bible—or Old Testament—
    which is most of our Bible.
    In fact, more than 3/4 of the pages in your Bible,
        if you use a Bible made of paper,
        are what we often call the Old Testament.
    They are routinely ignored by many Christian readers
        (except for the Psalms)
        because they are either hard to read and understand,
        or we assume they were made obsolete by Jesus.

Just to make sure we didn’t make that mistake today,
    we read Matthew 5:17, where Jesus said,
    “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets;
        I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.”

I like referring to the first 75% of our Bible as the Hebrew Bible.
    For one thing, it names its original language and culture.
    Plus, there’s nothing in the name to imply it’s outdated,
        and not our Bible anymore.
        Yes, the first part of our Bible is “old” chronologically.
        But it’s not old like milk gets old.
            It’s not expired or sour.
            It is still fresh and life-giving.
            It still speaks to us and our times.
        These writings are sacred to us,
            because they were sacred to Jesus.
        For that matter, they are still the sacred writings
            for Jewish people,
            who still hold them as precious,
            and read them with reverence.

But like all of our Bible, from Genesis to Revelation,
    what is written needs to be understood in its own context,
        on its own terms,
    and only then, brought into our context,
        interpreted wisely,
        and applied in a way that fits our situation.
_____________________

We misunderstand the Ten Commandments today,
    because we don’t adequately deal with their original context.
    We lift them out of the story,
        and make them a list to be memorized and recited,
        or etched into plaques and monuments.
    We hang them on walls,
        or place them, controversially,
        in public places like courtrooms or school rooms.
    They can often survive there,
        as long as they are viewed merely as
            an important relic of some universal legal code,
            alongside other historic legal codes.

So, as long as they exist only as “list” and not “story,”
    we easily make them into either
        a legalistic and restrictive code of ethics imposed on us,
        or a tame, historical artifact, with very little impact.

So when I preach to people socialized to read Exodus 20 as a list,
    and I signal that our topic is commandments and the law,
        I expect some people will just “check out”—
            “I thought we had gotten over rules-based Christianity.”
        And I expect others will eagerly dig in, for the wrong reasons,
            “About time we talk about specific sins,
                and the ‘dos-and-don’ts’ of Christianity!”

So, now . . . let’s help this list find its story again.
    This is, after all, a narrative lectionary.
    Scripture is more likely to change us
        when we read it as story,
        and find ourselves in the story.
_____________________

This story continues the story of last Sunday,
    when the Hebrew people were liberated
    from hundreds of years of slavery and dehumanization in Egypt.

Last week we saw God as passionate for the liberation
    of all people who are oppressed.
Today, not long after the crossing of the Red Sea,
    God is making a new covenant with them at Mt. Sinai.

It may not be your experience,
    but can you imagine the multi-generational injuries
        and collective trauma of the Hebrew people,
        after what they and their ancestors endured in Egypt?
    It’s not entirely unlike the multi-generational impact
        that slavery has had on American society and well-being.
        We are all still dealing with the painful results
            of that collective trauma, 150 years later.
    For the Israelites, it was maybe months.

According to the biblical story,
    this is a group of many thousands of traumatized people,
    wandering and trying to find their way in a wilderness—
        a geographical one,
        and a psychological, social, and spiritual wilderness.
    They endured generations in Egypt
        where the constant message was,
            you are not worthy,
            you are not even human.

    And they have only been out of that environment a short time.

That, friends, is the story behind these so-called Ten Commandments.
    We must read them with that story in mind.
    These are not commandments aimed at
        reining in an unruly mob of wicked and condemned sinners,
        who need to straighten up and get their act together
            to avoid damnation.
    No!
    These words are road maps for a flourishing life
        for a traumatized community.
    They were given by the God who created them
        and loves them dearly,
        and wants them to thrive.
    These words were a healing gift.

    These words are meant to counteract and repair the harm
        brought by the oppressive messages
        that have defined their lives up to this point.
_____________________

So how does that realization
    change how we read these so-called Ten Commandments?

More often than not, it’s Christians who make this into a list of
    negative commands to constrain our wickedness.
And it’s the Jewish readers of this text who, to this day,
    celebrate the law as a precious gift they were given.
    It is Jews who still carry the Torah scroll around the congregation,
        dancing with it, and kissing it before it is read.

And ponder this:
The Jewish way of numbering the Ten Commandments,
    or “Ten Words,”
    is different than the Christian way.
    Same text, different numbering.
For Christians, #1 is “You shall have no other gods before me”
    and #2 is “You shall not make any idols.”
But Jews combine both those and make it their #2.
In the Jewish list, #1 is not even a commandment.
    It is these precious words:
    “I am the Lord your God,
        who brought you out of the land of Egypt,
        out of the house of bondage.”

It’s no coincidence that Christians call that a preamble,
    and make the ten commandments after it the important stuff.
And Jews start with a Word from Yahweh
    that connects them to their story, where they came from.
    It establishes the reason why the words that follow
        are such a beautiful and precious gift.
_____________________

So what if we started with the story, instead of the list?
What if we made it a point to remind ourselves every time
    that the giver of these words is our loving God,
    who brings people out of bondage?
When we start with that story,
    the rest of the Words hold a richer meaning,
    and we hear them differently.

When we hear a Word coming from the Great Liberator,
    “You shall have no other gods before me,”
        we do not hear a heavy new rule laid on our shoulders.
    We hear . . . “God liberates us from a life
        of being pulled in opposite directions.”

When we hear a Word from our Liberator, saying,
    “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain,”
    we hear . . . “God liberates us from the trivial and profane,
        and from being robbed of the beauty of the sacred.”

When we hear a Word from our Liberator, saying,
    “Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy,”
    we hear . . . “God liberates us from a life of compulsive busyness,
        of constant work,
        of anxious and life-draining accumulation.”

When our Liberator says,
    “Honor your father and your mother,”
    we hear . . . “God liberates us from a shallow life without roots,
        of not knowing from whence we came,
        or if we are unconditionally loved.”

When our Liberator says,
    “You shall not kill,”
    we hear . . . “God liberates us from the death-trap
        of escalating violence.”

When our Liberator says,
    “You shall not commit adultery,”
    we hear . . . “God liberates us from a lack of commitment
        in our most intimate human relationships.”

When our Liberator says,
    “You shall not steal,
    You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor,
    You shall not covet your neighbor’s property,”
    we hear . . . “God liberates us from a lonely and bankrupt life,
        where feeding our personal desires takes precedence over
        having a rich relational life of mutuality in community.”

These Ten are not a sterile list of commands from on high
    delivered by an angry God trying to whip people into shape.
    They are a gift of love, given by the Great Liberator—
        a God who wants to free us from bondage and slavery
            and oppression of every kind . . .
        a God who wants to free us to enter into a community of
            love and freedom and justice,
            into a free and right relationship with God and each other.

The Ten Commandments are a gracious gift of love.
    They actually can be the objects of our affection.
    They can taste sweeter than honey.

At least, so says Psalm 19 . . .
    The law of the Lord is perfect . . .
        It revives the soul . . .
        It rejoices the heart. . . .
    The commandments of the Lord are true . . .
    More to be desired are they than gold,
        even much fine gold;
        sweeter also than honey
        and drippings of the honeycomb.”

If God’s moral imperative on our lives
    is not experienced as invitational and compelling
        and life-giving and satisfying,
        then that’s our fault, not God’s.
    God’s approach toward us is that of a wooing lover—
        inviting us into freedom and flourishing.

Let’s say yes to that kind of God.
And let’s offer a communal confession to that God.

one    God who loves us and freed us,
        we confess we often take for granted
        your love for us, and your passion for our freedom.
all   You brought us out of bondage, and want us to flourish
one  We mistake your commandments for rules that constrict and confine
        rather than gifts that liberate us from all that diminishes our humanity
all    You brought us out of bondage, and want us to flourish
one    We worship you, O Lord our God,
        who brought us out of the land of all that binds us.
[silence]
one    God still loves us and frees us,
all    Let us walk in the way of freedom and flourishing.

—Phil Kniss, October 9, 2022

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Phil Kniss: To be on God’s side

Roots and Tendrils: God Grows a People
Liberated People (World Communion Sunday)
Exodus 14:5-7, 10-14, 21-29

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We’re moving forward in our biblical narrative.
And we’re moving forward in our understanding of God.
Every picture reveals something more of God’s character.

In the story of Noah
    we learned God deeply loves all creation,
    and is committed to see it thrive and experience shalom.
In the story of Abram and Sarai,
    we learned God invests in a particular people,
    so that, through them, God might bless all people and nations.

Today, in the story of the Hebrews escaping Egypt,
    we are shown one of God’s most enduring . . .
        and beloved . . . and troubling character traits—
        God’s preferential treatment of the poor and oppressed.

Yes, God practices preferential treatment.
    God has favorites.
    God is biased.
    God takes a side in human affairs.
    And that sounds like Good News Gospel for one side,
        and maddening religious heresy for the other.

Am I overstating it? You decide, after we explore Exodus.
_____________________

The story we read this morning,
    is just one pivotal point in a much longer story about
        how the Hebrew people got to Egypt to begin with,
        why they ended up being enslaved,
        how they got out of the death trap they were in,
        how they coped with their sudden unexpected freedom,
        and all the ups and downs and ins and outs
            of becoming a people knit together in covenant with God.

When we read the story of crossing the Red Sea all by itself,
    it’s easy to mistakenly assume the main point of the story
        is to prove how powerful God is,
        that God can and will defy nature
            to part the waters and miraculously bless his people.

Typically, we spend a lot of interpretive energy
    on that one spectacular act—parting the waters.
The details are what people get into arguments about,
    what some people try to argue is a literal, historic event,
    and others try to explain in more academic and rational terms,
        like that it’s not what we know as the Red Sea,
        but a “reed sea,” a more marshy environment.
    Meanwhile, we all have etched in our mind’s eye
        the image of Charleton Hesston holding up his arms
            in the classic movie,
            while 100-foot walls of sea water rise up on either side
                and thousands of Israelites, and their livestock,
                walk miles across,
            before the sea crashes down with a fury
                drowning the Egyptian army and their horses.

To even conjure up that scene is off-putting, especially this week,
    after two hurricanes laid waste to large sections of
    Puerto Rico and Florida and other coastal communities.

Exodus states that Yahweh sent a strong east wind
    to pile up the water and dry off the sea bed,
    and then brought the water back again where it was.

With this Exodus story on my mind
    I watched video of Hurricane Ian,
        where winds north of the eye wall
            drove the water out to sea,
            leaving boats sitting on the dry sea bed;
        and south of the eye wall
            winds pushed a 12-foot wall of water inland,
            flooding homes and vehicles
            and drowning people and animals.
_____________________

A little surreal.
    But I’ll chalk it up to pure coincidence.
    There’s no meaning or connection behind it, in my mind.
    Wind moving water is just something that happens in our world.

The real story here in Exodus,
    is not God moving a wall of water.
The story is God revealing to the world, for all time,
    God’s strong bias against the oppressor,
        and for the oppressed.
    What is uncovered here,
        is that God has a preference for certain kinds of people.

Now . . . if we have a little gut reaction, a small pang of resistance
    to the idea that God has a preference for certain people,
        or is biased, or takes sides in human affairs . . .
    it probably says something about
    which side of the social balance scale we find ourselves on.

Yes, even while I preach that God is biased toward the oppressed,
    I find myself mostly on the opposite side
        of where God is weighing in.
    I have to face up to my own internal resistance.
_____________________

But rather than resist or protest, I really should listen more deeply.
Given the racial reckoning of our day,
    given our coming to terms with the persistent harm
    caused by socially ingrained white supremacist ideology,
    we ought to read Exodus with our eyes and ears wide open.

Now is the time and place in our biblical narrative,
    to hand it over to other interpreters of Exodus
    whose own lived history and daily experiences
        more closely resonates with what the Hebrews went through.

White preachers and scholars descended from Western Europeans,
    and trained in the disciplines of classical theology, like myself,
    maybe don’t have the best social location,
        to rightly interpret the God who freed Hebrew slaves.

For many African Americans descended from enslaved people,
    for many Latin American Christians oppressed by dictatorships
        propped up by western governments and corporations,
    for Jews shaped by the horrors of the Holocaust,
    this story of the Exodus
        is not just one of many interesting stories in the Hebrew Bible.
It is THE prominent story they keep returning to—
    it’s their heart story that resonates most deeply with them,
    it’s the story that is most formative
        for their understanding of who God is.

These people of faith see in Yahweh
    a God who is not just bothered, but enraged,
    when human beings oppress other humans.

Oppressing others is the worst way to fail our divine calling.
    It is the worst way to corrupt and obscure the divine image in us.
    When human beings, loved by God,
        abuse other human beings, equally loved by God,
        it’s an insult to God.
        It is saying to God’s face that God’s love is meaningless.
        It is denying God’s love for those persons we oppress,
            and God’s love for us.

This story of the Exodus is the sacred text
    for understanding that God is above all else, a liberator.

James Cone, the influential black liberation theologian, said,
    “a Gospel that doesn’t liberate is no Gospel at all.”

In his book God of the Oppressed about 25 years ago,
    he wrote, and I quote,
“The biblical God is the God whose salvation is liberation.
    God is the God of Jesus Christ who calls the helpless and weak
        into a newly created existence.
    God not only fights for them
        but takes their humiliated condition upon the divine Person
        and thereby breaks open a new future for the poor,
        different from their past and present miseries.”

In other words, James Cone is saying
    God not only became one with all humanity in his incarnation,
        but God became one with the oppressed in Jesus’ crucifixion.
    Through the cross, God not only sided with the oppressed,
        God became the oppressed.

Traditionally, white evangelicalism and western Protestantism
    tend to make God’s salvation entirely personal,
        the aim is to keep us from eternal damnation.

    Well, being saved from damnation might be good motivation
        for us who live in relative comfort.
    But if you are on the underside of society,
        if you are being oppressed,
        you don’t need potential damnation to
            make you respond to God’s salvation.
    You are already in a living hell.
    You are looking for liberation.
_____________________

I owe those thoughts to Jonny Rashid,
    an Arab-American pastor in Philadelphia,
    author of a book just released through Herald Press, entitled,
        Jesus Takes a Side.

That’s not been my default way of thinking about salvation.
    But it’s what I hear when I listen to
        voices of my sisters and brothers who are
        Black, Indigenous, or People of Color.
    The Gospel message is salvation from oppression and suffering—
        present and future.

I feel it’s my responsibility to keep listening.
    More than responsibility,
        my spiritual life is at stake if I don’t keep listening.
    Because the most challenging question is not
        whose side God is on.
        That’s been well established.
        That question was answered,
            and the cross of Jesus put an exclamation point on it.
        The question of my life is,
            will I choose to be on God’s side?
        Do my passion and commitments line up
            with God’s passion and commitments?
    
_____________________

Of course, when we come to the communion table,
    the Lord’s Supper,
    we come remembering our salvation.

Our social location shapes how we see this table.
    Is this a safe little ritual involving a morsel of bread,
        and a sip from a tiny cup?
    Or is this a liberation meal? like the Passover was?

    On this World Communion Sunday,
        in solidarity with all our oppressed sisters and brothers
            around the world,
        in solidarity with the black church,
            the church of indigenous peoples,
            the church of immigrants and refugees,
        I invite us to see the table that’s set before us
            as a meal of liberation.
        To see that the broken body and blood of Jesus
            means God becomes one with all who are oppressed,
                no matter what kind of oppression,
            and God offers to liberate us.

—Phil Kniss, October 2, 2022

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Paula Stoltzfus: From Covenant to Blessing

Roots and Tendrils: God Grows a People

To Bless the Nations

Genesis 12:1-9; Matt 28:19-20


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A prayer practice I am engaging in presently is an imaginative contemplation group led by MaryBeth Heatwole Moore.  She has adapted Ignatian contemplation, created by St. Ignatius as a way to read and pray through scripture. MaryBeth gives some context to the scripture, reads it a couple of times slowly so we have the chance to imagine the scene, place ourselves in it, pay attention to how we experience it, and then in a 10 minute silence to enter into a prayerful conversation with God.  We end our time sharing our thoughts, questions, and experience. 

This has been a way for me to engage scripture allowing it to come alive in the spaces between the words and lines written on the page. The sights, sounds, emotions, and even smells become a part of the experience.  

As I entered into the story of Abram and Sarai we had read today, these spaces of imagination opened up more.  The Biblical text doesn’t always give the descriptive detail that often enhances the story’s meaning. This text is fairly brief in God's invitation and blessing followed by Abram’s response.

Before we go any further I want to lay a little groundwork for today’s story. The first 11 chapters of Genesis address all of humanity.  There is the creation account and the growth of humans in number. There are multiple lists of genealogies, the flood narrative, and the Tower of Babel. The flood narrative we looked at last week made evident God’s covenant of love to all of humanity.

Chapter 12 initiates a shift. God interacts with one family, initiating a call to be a people that would carry the priestly function to humanity.  God speaks and acts directly with Abram, calling him to leave family and home in order to be a blessing to the nations.  

There is a particular movement here, a flow, of a direct personal encounter with God, reception of God’s blessing, and then becoming a blessing to others.

First, this covenantal love is embodied in a personal call. God’s call wasn’t broadcast to all to see who would respond. It was to Abram and Sarai.

Some scholars ask the question, why did God choose them?  There aren’t many details given. The author doesn’t seem to highlight any particular reason. For all we know, Abram and Sarai were regular people.  Some experiences at the end of chapter 11 mention Haran, one of Abram’s brothers dying in Ur, leaving his son Lot and daughters Milcah and Iscah, fatherless. At some point Abram and Sarai were married as well as his other brother Nahor to his niece Milcah. Sarai is noted as being barren. Terah, their father, decided to move from Ur to Canaan with Abram and Sarai and Lot. On their way they came to Haran and settled there.  Haran is where Terah died.   

Now these two paragraphs jump through a lifetime of details, but perhaps give us a glimpse into what formed Abram, grief, barrenness, and an experience of moving from what he knew of as home.

So when we get to chapter 12, God spoke to Abram, giving a personal call. As one commentator puts it, “God seems here to be working with a stripped down version of the mid-twentieth century psychologist Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs, covering safety, belonging, and esteem/self-actualization.” 1

We don’t know when this call came but perhaps being fatherless and childless may have allowed Abram and Sarai open to this direct invitation for a place to call home, purpose, and descendants that would be as numerous as a nation.

So this blessing was personal, but it was also bigger than Abram and Sarai. God’s call is to be a blessing to those around them, offering an example of a people in relationship with God. This blessing was to flow from God, through a family to all the world. Sounds familiar to Jesus’ call in Matthew 28, to make disciples of all nations. This blessing wasn’t for an elite few, one family, or one nation. It was for the benefit of all.

The only way this blessing is possible is because God was covenanting with this family, marked by an altar. Through God’s reaching out, Abram in turn acts in faith, taking Sarai and Lot, all their possessions, livestock, and all they had acquired and began the journey. This covenant was remembered for generations to come and has become a clear marker within the salvation story.

Now, did this blessing keep Abram and Sarai from experiencing the challenges of life?  Clearly not, for they go on to experience a famine and live as refugees in Egypt where Sarai endured Abram’s plan to lie about their marriage. As a result, she was taken into Pharoah’s house as another wife. There was family discord with Lot. And then there was their plan to use Sarai’s slave, Hagar, to build Abram’s desendents, because God’s plan wasn’t coming to fruition in a timely manner as they thought should occur. So, yes they had their challenges believing that God was going to carry out the promise God made.

Through God’s grace, the flow of blessing continued.

A rock caryn has become a meaningful symbol to me on my faith journey, much like the altar Abram built and left on their journey.  On a trail, caryns are often built along the way to signal that one is on the path and in some instances, to signal where the path is. It is a signal that the trail has been passed by many before and invites use by others afterwards.

When we make a personal decision to step on this path of faith, we enter into this flow of blessing, which is personal, bigger than ourselves, and grounded in God’s commitment to all.

To close I want to invite you to do a faith imagination exercise with me.  You may close your eyes, look at the picture or outside, or have a soft gaze in front of you.
I invite you to imagine a stream of people of faith that stretches back to Abram and Sarai. This stream includes people of whom you have only heard stories.  It includes people known and unknown, seen and unseen.  
Listen to what it sounds like. What stories are they telling?
What does it feel like to be in their presence?
Notice where God is in the midst of the people.
Where do you place yourself in relation to this stream?
What personal invitation might be bubbling in you as you encounter this stream of God’s everlasting love and blessing?

Prayer:
Divine Creator, Giver of Blessing, we are in awe of the ways you use ordinary people with whom you co-labor to bring about your blessing of grace and love.  Open our eyes and ears to the invitation you have for us as individuals and community to step into the stream of faith where Your blessing flows through us to the world. AMEN

1 Wright, Rebecca Abs. Commentary on Genesis 12:1-9, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/call-of-abraham-2/commentary-on-genesis-121-9-4. September 18, 2022.

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Phil Kniss: The Great Flood Story—The Original Whodunnit

Covenant with Creation
ROOTS & TENDRILS: GOD GROWS A PEOPLE
Genesis 6:5-22; 8:6-12; 9:8-17


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Today I preach on the world’s most famous story.
    Most famous. Of all stories. And I don’t think I’m exaggerating.
    Anyone in the world
        who has ever heard anything at all about our Bible,
        has probably heard about Noah and the Ark.
    And . . . if they haven’t been exposed to our sacred stories,
        they probably have their own set of sacred stories,
        and one of those is probably a story about a great flood,
            with striking similarities to ours.

But before I get to Genesis 6-9,
    I need to clear the table of some distractions.
    There are three ways Christians often deal with this story.

First, in just about every Christian audience,
    there will be some people who make the story acceptable,
    by turning it into something whimsical and romantic,
        child-friendly enough to decorate walls of church nurseries.
    And yes, you haven’t been in it for a while,
        our own church nursery is whimsically decorated
        with pictures of Noah and his family
            taking a boatload of cute animal couples
            on a long cruise.

Secondly, there will be those who do the exact opposite—
    who reject the story as repulsive and abhorrent,
        a story of a violent God that has no place in our theology,
        but sadly reflects
            the violent world view of the ancient writers.

Thirdly, there may be those who deal with this story
    as science and history,
    making it into something that actually took place in ancient times,
        and must be accepted as such to honor the truth of scripture.

Spoiler alert!
    None of those are the sermon you’re getting today.

Some of those approaches have their appeal.
    At least one of them makes great nursery wallpaper.
    And actually, there’s nothing wrong with talking to children
        about a God who goes to great lengths to save humanity,
            and save every living creature.
        That’s all good and true about God.

But none of those three approaches deal with the story
    fully and honestly.
    I think the only way to talk about this story honestly,
        is to see it as a shining example in a category of stories.
    This is one of many ancient primal flood stories.

Many ancient cultures used a story of a vast, overwhelming flood,
    to explain what kind of world they lived in,
        and what sort of God or gods inhabited their world,
        and the world beyond.

Noah’s flood story is one of several
    that emerged from the Ancient Near East.
And there’s a host of other flood narratives
    from ancient cultures in China and the Far East,
    and among indigenous peoples all over the world,
        including North and South America, Asia, and Oceania,
        many of them thousands of years old,
        all of them passing along a defining narrative
        about the nature and interplay of human and divine beings.

As one Bible commentator put it,
    if you are writing sacred stories for your people,
    the question is not IF you will tell a flood story,
        but HOW you will tell it.

And folks, this does not take anything away from our confession
    that scripture was inspired by the Holy Spirit.
    I would say the Spirit rightly and wisely inspired people
        to use an established story form,
        to communicate truth about God, creation, and humankind.

Furthermore, talking about the other flood stories is not something
    we should leave to academic biblical scholars
    and their specialized research tools and in-house vocabulary.

No, everyday preachers need to be preaching to everyday persons—
    that’s people like me and you—
    that this story of Noah does not stand alone.
    It’s in a category.
    And it’s in conversation with the other stories in that category.
    We must know at least a little something
        about the other stories,
        to keep from getting all tangled up in this story
            twisting it out of shape,
            making it into something it’s not.

Comparing and contrasting helps us ensure the story is Good News!
    Yes, Gospel!
This is how we uncover a picture of God
    that’s consistent with the God of the rest of scripture.
    Make no mistake! This is a Golden Story of the Bible.
_____________________

So first,
    just a very quick characterization of the other stories circulating
    around the time this one emerged for the people of Yahweh.

I won’t do the stories justice, by any means.
    I’m going to grossly oversimplify.
    So if you happen to be a scholar of the Gilgamesh Epic,
        or any of the Babylonian flood myths,
        I’ll just say I’m sorry,
            and make a sweeping generalization.

In many of the ancient flood stories,
    the gods seem more concerned
        about their own struggle for power over each other.
    Human beings were mostly an annoyance,
        kept getting in the way of what the gods wanted to do.

In one story, the Council of gods decides they are better off
    without humans messing things up,
    so they plan for a big flood to destroy humanity forever.
    One lesser god sneaks away and spills the secret
        to the human hero of the story,
        who builds a big boat,
        saving himself, his family, and the animals.

    When they find out, the chief gods are furious a human survived.
    So the lesser gods, who didn’t support the original plan,
        make the human survivor immortal, into a god himself,
        and send him away to a new life in another world,
        safe from the gods who want him dead.
    End of story.

    The repeated motif in many of these stories
        is eternal cosmic conflict.
    The gods are at war, either with other gods, or with us.

    Our role, as humans, is do all we can to appease the gods.
    We try to calm them, burn incense for them, feed them,
        do whatever we can to distract them
        so they don’t lash out in anger and destroy us.

We have a different kind of story in Genesis.
    A different picture of God.
    Here, Yahweh, the One God who created all life,
        relates to creation, especially the human creation,
        out of a deep and abiding love.

Here we see a God who is not so much angry and resentful,
    but brokenhearted at the world gone wrong.
The Hebrew word used to describe God’s feelings
    is not the word for “anger,” but for “pain,” “hurt,” “grief.”

God was brokenhearted by all the wickedness on the earth,
    all the violence, the corruption, the chaos covering the earth.
    This was chaos humans brought on themselves,
        it was not God’s doing,
        it was not God’s desire.
    Humans rejected the shalom God created and intended for them.
    So in this flood story,
    God does in the natural realm,
        what humans had already done spiritually and relationally—
        covered the earth with chaos.
    Water, the symbol of chaos, overwhelms the earth.
    And now the physical reality God brought about,
        exactly mirrors the spiritual reality humans brought about.

You’ll notice in my sermon title I called this story
    “The Original Whodunnit,” a bit tongue-in-cheek.
    I’m basically referring to the question,
        who is responsible for the chaos and destruction?
        Who done it?
    Traditionally, we point to God, of course.
        That’s why some people struggle with how God is portrayed.
        But it’s clear, especially when we hold this story
            up against the other stories,
            that humans shared the responsibility of destruction,
            even though God chose to be held accountable, alone,
                for it never happening again.
_____________________

Matthew Lynch, an Old Testament professor in Vancouver,
    put it this way.
    Before the flood happened,
        there had already been a massive disruption
        in all the primary relationships of Creation.
    Relationships between humanity and God was disrupted.
    Human to human relationships were disrupted.
    The relationship between humanity and creation was disrupted.

The way God had designed creation to work,
    in beauty, diversity, and community,
    had all devolved into chaos.
    It was back to how things were before Day 1 of Creation,
        described in Genesis 1:2, where it says
            the earth was “formless” (to-hu)—
            a word sometimes translated chaos.

So Lynch uses the analogy of a potter working at a wheel.
    Remember the video of a clay pot being formed
        that Sarah Bixler shared last Sunday at Retreat?
    Lynch describes God the potter
        as pulling the clay of creation into the form God had in mind.
        But the clay had a mind of its own,
            and soon got so misshapen,
            that God decided to turn it to formlessness again.
        Like the potter cutting the mess off the wheel,
            putting it back into a ball in the center of the wheel,
                and starting over.
        No good potter does that gleefully, or out of spite or anger,
            It’s agonizing and heartbreaking,
                when a potter decides to go that route.

The God of Genesis is a God of love, whose heart breaks.
_____________________

We see God’s nature most clearly in the Genesis flood story,
    when the waters go down.
    Here, the Hebrew flood story shines, in comparison to others.

Instead of ending the story with the gods and humans
    locked in deadly combat,
    or the human hero escaping the earth,
        escaping his humanity . . .
    the Genesis story restores divine and human communion.
    It establishes a covenant—a one-way covenant,
        where God takes full responsibility for the destruction.

Because of God’s deep love for creation and human beings,
    God is moved to anguish and regret.
    So instead of continuing to rage against humanity and creation,
        God lays down a bow, as a sign for himself,
        to never again destroy the earth.

Ch. 9, v. 13, “I have set my bow in the clouds,
    and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.
When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds,
    I will remember my covenant that is between me and you
        and every living creature of all flesh.”

God moves toward humans and the earth, in love.
    and lays down the weapon.
Bible scholars like to point out that the rainbow
    was not a random splash of color.
    It was shaped like a bow, the weapon of war.

In other stories, the gods kept up their battle.
The God of the Bible laid down the weapon used against creation,
    and made an everlasting, one-sided, unconditional covenant,
        to never take up such a weapon again.
    God promised to sustain life and help it flourish.

This is not a horror story about a violent God.
This is Gospel.
This is a picture of a God of boundless love and mercy
    and tenderness toward all humans, and all creation,
    with no conditions attached!
_____________________

As we all know, the chaos continues today.
    God has kept God’s side of the covenant.
    We have not responded in kind.
    God’s design for creation has not reached its fulfillment.
    Humanity continues to wreak havok.
    Things are as bad, if not worse, than before the flood.
    But God already surrendered the weapon.
    The human story will ultimately end
        not with annihilation and utter destruction,
        but with the restoring of shalom.
    The covenant between God and creation is intact.
    It is holding up, despite the rampant violence in our world.

We still have a lot of our own work to do.
God did not promise to keep us humans from destroying the earth.
God gave us the most wonderful, and dangerous, gift.
    Free will.

According to Genesis,
    we shared responsibility with God for earth’s destruction.
The good news is that we also share responsibility for its healing,
    and its future fruitfulness.
God invites us to be partners for the healing of all creation.
    What an awesome calling.
    Let us live into it.

And let’s turn to hymn #708.
One of many new hymns in our hymnal.
This one is mostly a lament about the ongoing destruction
    caused by climate change,
    and the toll it’s taking on the world’s poor.
But note the word of hope in verse 4:
    Gracious God, your strong compassion
        stilled the storm and parted seas.
    Free and lead us till we fashion
        worlds of justice, hope, and peace.

Let’s sing together.

—Phil Kniss, September 18, 2022

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