Good morning! May the peace of Christ be with you...
Last week I talked about the Exodus story, the liberation of the Hebrew people, the miracles that God performed through Moses, the grumbling of the Hebrews as they trudged through the desert despite God’s providence. We considered how they were not psychologically prepared for their new paradigm, but were likely repeating the behavioral patterns they had employed to get their needs met under the oppressive rule of the Egyptians. We also heard how God was angered not by their complaints but by their lack of faith.
I did not spend time exploring God’s amazing gift of manna - “the bread of angels.” Exodus 16 tells us it was a fine flaky substance that coated the ground each morning and was as fine as frost on the ground. Moses said, “It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.” But there were stipulations too: Each person was only to gather a single portion (1) for themselves and one portion for each member of their family. No more, no less. They were also instructed to consume their portions entirely and not to try to keep any of it for later. But some ignored this instruction and gathered less or tried to gather up a larger amount. But no matter how much they gathered, when they measured it afterward, there was only one portion per person. No more, no less. People had only been able to gather the amount that was allotted to them.
And those who tried to hold onto it until morning found that it a) either melted or b) became “wormy and rotten.” So each person was provided only as much as they needed.
Perhaps you’ve heard that parable about the baby elephant who was staked to the ground and tied to it with a rope. As any young elephant would, he pulled against the rope trying to free himself to no avail. His poor little body was simply not strong enough. He tried for many days until he finally gave up on the idea, convinced that it was futile. Of course by the time he grew up, he could have easily pulled the sake out of the ground but he never did. He’d been convinced that he couldn’t.
I remember listening to the Exodus story when I was young. In my innocence I found myself wondering, “how could the Hebrews forget that God was with them?” I mean, we read that “The Lord went before them in a pillar of cloud by day and in a pillar of fire by night,” (1) pillars that never left their sight. In light of such miracles, how could they forget that God was with them? Where was their faith?
In the beginning.
In the beginning, Skywoman fell from a hole in the Skyworld. She fell for what seemed like eternity; eventually, she saw the world below was covered by oceans.
In the beginning, there was sky above and water below. Obatala climbed down from the sky on a golden chain and spread the sand he carried to create the earth.
In the beginning, when God began to create the heavens and the earth, the earth was complete chaos, and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.
Creation stories from around the world are diverse and have great variation, but there is one motif that is almost universally common across many dispersed ancient cultures: the primeval waters. From the stories of the indigenous people who lived around the Great Lakes of North America, to the Yoruba people on the west coast of Africa, the Judeo-Christian tradition from the Mediterranean, and, as we have been learning this morning, to the Polynesian cultures of the Pacific Ocean, our origin stories tell of a world that began in water.
Not every creation story begins with a watery world, but so many of them do that folklorists and mythologists call the common image of a watery creation the “cosmic ocean.” In the beginning, there was water.
Read MoreToday we are celebrating the 29th anniversary of Eden choosing to be an Open and Affirming congregation. For those you might be newer here and not familiar with the lingo of the United Church of Christ, Open and Affirming (or ONA) is the UCC’s designation for congregations, campus ministries, and other bodies in the UCC which make a public covenant of welcome into their full life and ministry to persons of all sexual orientations, gender identities, and gender expressions.
I think most of you know that I have a longer history with Eden than the almost-year that I’ve been your Designated Term Associate Pastor. In fact, I walked through the doors of the sanctuary for the first time in November of 1995– the very year that Eden voted to become Open and Affirming.
Many of you may also know that I’m one of those rare folks who actually grew up in the UCC. I was baptized, confirmed, and had my first experiences of worship leadership and diaconal ministry at Lemon Grove Congregational UCC in Southern California.
Despite these early experiences, by my mid-twenties and after a move to the Bay Area, I wasn’t really sure if traditional Christianity was still a good fit for my identity as a feminist and my decidedly nature-based sense of spirituality. I was having trouble reconciling my feminism with a faith tradition that was so rooted in the Patriarchy. I pretty much stopped attending church, except for a few times when I was invited by friends or family.
Amos had an unenviable job. He was called to prophesy doom and gloom in prosperous times. Amos said that Israel would face divine retribution for the people’s unfaithfulness—especially for their mistreatment of the poor, and for their arrogance.
El profeta Amós tenía un trabajo poco envidiable. El fue llamado por Dios a profetizar pesimismo y fatalidad en tiempos de prosperidad. Amós dijo que Israel enfrentaría retribución divina por la infidelidad del pueblo, especialmente por su maltrato a los pobres y por su arrogancia.
No persons of influence wanted to hear what Amos had to say—not even the local priests—and little evidence existed to substantiate the prophet’s proclamations of judgment.
Ninguna persona de influencia quiso escuchar lo que Amós tenía que decir, ni siquiera los sacerdotes locales, y existía poca evidencia para sustentar las proclamaciones de juicio del profeta.
This summer, we’re exploring the role of leadership in the Judeo-Christian tradition, and learning more about the variety of leadership styles that have been exhibited in our tradition. We’re also reflecting on our own leadership styles, and striving to learn and diversify our repertoire of styles in order to meet the leadership challenges in our time.
So far, we’ve studied four ancient Hebrew leaders and their respective leadership styles including two judges, Eli and Samuel, two kings, Saul and David, and a fifth leader, who resided in Israel, but who practiced magic and who purportedly was able to speak with the dead.
Today, we continue this exploration of biblical leadership and leadership styles by examining Jesus’ role as a leader, and the style of leadership to which he called his first followers.
Good morning! God is good (all the time), and all the time (God is good).
Happy Pride Sunday! It is good to be with you this morning and have this opportunity to share with you. During Eastertide here at Eden Church, we engaged in a wonderful series called “Resurrection Stories” and I was so inspired by them that I found myself wanting to share my own testimony with you. I thought it would be a great way for us to begin learning about one another. But I didn’t have an opportunity to preach until today. So since today is Pride Sunday, I thought I might finally share MY resurrection story with you
Now my life has been complicated and intense, sometimes tragic, at other times astonishing. There’s far too much to tell. And it’s always a challenge for me to try to put it into a simple narrative. But when I stop to reflect, I can scarcely believe the things that I have lived through! I mean I was there, I know they happened – I experienced those things, in those places - but I feel healed and removed from them now. While a few core things remain, I barely feel connected to that old life.
So what I am about to share with you is a testimony about the (continuing) healing journey of this Two-Spirit mystic and how the decision to embrace my truth, to “choose life,” would lead to a spiritual awakening and a sense of call that would slowly, steadily, utterly transform my life.
There is no sermon manuscript at this time.
Read MoreWhen I was a kid reading the stories in my Golden Press Children’s Bible—you know, the one from the 60s with the super Scandinavian Jesus—I usually translated myself into the male characters of the Bible. In my imagination, I identified with young Samuel hearing the call of God. Or as young David going up against the very scary Philistine warrior Goliath, with nothing but his slingshot. I don’t remember seeing myself in the lives of the women characters much, and this is probably because those women’s stories were more on the margins of the story, not front and center like Samuel and David.
Another reason is that I didn’t often hear the stories of the women preached from the pulpit or studied in Sunday School when I was growing up. It wasn’t until I was an adult and began to study the Bible more seriously that I found that the Bible— especially the Old Testament, or Hebrew Bible—was FULL of wonderful, robust stories about women: Sarah and Rebekkah and Rachel and Leah; Miriam, Abigail, Ruth, Naomi, Deborah and Jael and Esther—the heroines and queens of ancient Israel.
Throughout the summer, we are exploring the theme of leadership as it’s expressed in the stories of the kings and prophets of ancient Israel. This month, we’re reading stories from the Book of 1 Samuel and the tales of Israel’s first king, Saul, and his rival and second king, David. Two weeks ago, we heard the story of God calling Samuel and pondered how God calls each of us and how we must each take up and live into that calling. Last week, we heard the story of how the Israelite people clamored for a King. The prophet Samuel told them it was a bad idea, that a king would conscript all their young people and take all their best livestock and crops in taxes, but they refused to listen to good advice, and Saul was anointed as the first King of Israel.
Because I’m a bit rebellious, today I’m doing a little off-roading and taking a detour from the lectionary text assigned for this week. This week, instead of exploring leadership from the perspective of a male figure at the center of patriarchal society, I wanted to take a look at a female figure from the edges of that patriarchal society and see what leadership can look like from the margins.
The news out of New York City (10 days ago) was epic. Never in the history of the United States government has a former President been convicted of 34 felonies. In baseball speak, Donald Trump is batting 100%
Telenovela got nothing over on the Trump trials. And we’ve only just begun. According to an article in the May 31, 2024 issue of The Atlantic titled The Case Against Trump, Donald Trump is still facing an additional total of 59 felony charges in the State of Georgia and two other federal courts.
That’s impressive. In a bad way. Donald J. Trump has become the first President in the 246 year history of the United States to be convicted of even a single felony.
More troubling is the fact that (according to The Atlantic) despite all of these convictions and the likelihood that he will be convicted on most--if not all--of the others, the former President’s name will appear on every state ballot in the the land this fall.
Furthermore, according to a recent Tweet released by Congressman Swallwel’s office that same evening, these rulings are unlikely to be influential in how most voters will vote when they/we go to the polls this fall.
This situation begs the question: how is this possible in a moral nation?
How—with this much evidence of moral turpitude—can any US Presidential candidate's name go on any state ballot—with this many felony convictions?
It seems to me that 1) we have a lot of voters who don’t let the facts confuse us, 2) we are primarily an immoral nation, or 3) both.
If one or both are true--we have a lot of soul searching and confessing to do--and a deep need to get right with God and realign our values and voting with the vision of God, the guidance of the prophets, and the example and teachings of Christ.
Welcome to “Bravo! Sunday,” everyone! #Bravo!Sunday is Eden’s answer to what my people in the flyover states call “baccalaureate.” This is the momentous occasion when academic communities circle up for worship, or people of faith gather in their respective houses of worship and thank God that the school year has come to an end, and that some of us are moving on to higher education and employment opportunities—or, thank you Jesus!— retirement.
If you’re stressing about this transition, reach back to me after worship or send an email or text to me this week. Let’s talk. Let’s walk. Let’s paddle. Nobody needs to go through these rough patches alone. Eden Church is here to accompany you.
Conversely, if you’re hiring, or looking for a summer interns, or are a seasoned empty-nest-er or retiree, and are willing and available to mentor someone else through one or more of those experiences, see me after worship--or raise your hand--so I know who I can count on for Eden’s version of “speed-dating” accompaniment through the silly-season of summer.
We teach our youth these skills in leadership classes and Eden’s own ChYLI program, but not everyone gets this hand or leg-up in life. So at Eden, we teach and preach to give back. Now we are able to do that not only one-to-one, but institutionally.
For example, Eden’s Empowerment Team, which offers employment navigation and micro-business development services, and provides a space and introductions to help you build your personal and professional network for economic success here in the Bay Area.
The most challenging piece of work in other settings has been convincing employers to hire the jobseekers in our network.
Here in the Bay Area, by contrast, the most challenging work has been trying to dismantle the draconian immigration policies that keep capable job seekers from obtaining work permits, so that they can participate in background checks, complete their W-4 form, complete their orientation, and fill one of the numerous vacancies in our labor force.
The writer and minister Debie Thomas tells a story about having a conversation one day with her young Jewish neighbor. (1) “I was watering plants on my patio,” Thomas recalls, “when my neighbor’s son — an 8th grader — peeked over the fence and started telling me about his recent Bar Mitzvah celebration. After we’d chatted for a bit about the party, the guests, and the ‘awesome’ gifts he’d received, he asked, ‘Your family is Christian, right?’”
Thomas replied that she was, and then her neighbor went on to earnestly ask, “Why do Christians believe in three gods?”
“We don’t,” Thomas answered. “Actually, we believe in the same God you do. Just… differently.” Thomas hoped this answer would suffice, even though it was obviously inadequate.
But her neighbor pressed on with his questions. “I mean the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost thing,” he said. “I don’t get it.”
What Debie Thomas wanted to say at this point was, “Honey, neither do I.” But her young neighbor looked so genuinely bewildered that she sighed and fumbled her way through all the inadequate explanations she’d heard as a kid: “God is sort of like water! Water exists in three states, right? Liquid, solid, and gas? God’s like that! Or, like an egg! The shell, the egg white, and the yolk? Three parts, one egg! Or, um, a three-leaf clover! Or a tree! The roots, the trunk, and the branches — but they make up one tree, right? Or… or a triangle!”
None of these explanations satisfied the youngster’s curiosity, and finally he blurted out, “What’s the point of believing in three gods? Why three? What difference does it make?”
Peace of Christ to all. How blessed we are to have so many speakers of other languages at Eden! Amen. Today is a special day for me. Not only are we celebrating Pentecost, the Church’s birthday; not only are we celebrating Pledge Sunday, the culmination of our stewardship campaign; not only are we celebrating my Clergy Renewal send-off; but today also happens to be my ordination anniversary. In light of the confluence of all of these very special occasions, I want to talk to you about transformation that comes through intercultural exchanges, like the ones that happened at Pentecost.
Hoy es un día especial para mí. No sólo estamos celebrando Pentecostés, el cumpleaños de la Iglesia; no sólo estamos celebrando el Domingo de Nuestras Ofrendas, la culminación de nuestra campaña de ofrendas; no sólo estamos celebrando mi despedida de la Renovación del Clero; pero hoy también es mi onceavo aniversario de ordenación en el ministerio. A la luz de la confluencia de todas estas ocasiones tan especiales, quiero hablarles sobre la transformación que se produce a través de los intercambios interculturales, como los que pasaron en Pentecostés.
Anxiety. If there is one word that can best describe the mood of the apostles in both the gospel and epistle lessons for this last Sunday in the season of Easter, today, that word is anxiety.
Consider the setting for both passages. Matthew 28:16-20 is the final episode in Mathew’s gospel. Jesus has died. He was buried in an empty tomb. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary had gone to the cemetery to do what mourners do. But instead of a sealed grave, they experienced an earthquake, and encountered an angel who appeared like lightning, descending from heaven, who had rolled away the stone and sat upon it.
The soldiers at the cemetery were so freaked out that they fell to the ground and played dead. But the women, the Marys, had a bit more courage. They stood their ground, and listened to the angel who led them into the empty tomb, interpreted these earth-shattering events, and explained that Jesus had been raised from the dead and that he had gone ahead of them to Galilee, where they should go and see him.
The women did as the angel said. They ran to tell the other apostles what they had seen and heard, and invited them to go on to Galilee. Somewhere between Golgotha and Galilee, somewhere between their encounter with the angel and their testifying to the apostles, these women named Mary, met Jesus.
Christ is risen! Amen. Today’s resurrection story is entitled “Liberated.” You know, I actually take issue with this sermon title, for “liberated” is an adjective denoting a status, freed from imprisonment, slavery, or occupation. But in so doing it negates that liberation is a perpetual process for all of us in societies riddled with inequities that seek to keep captive. As a self-described “Black, lesbian, feminist, socialist, mother, warrior, poet” Audre Lorde said, “I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.” Understood then as a collective and social process, liberation is not a status, but a place we are endeavoring to co-create together, bigger than any individual alone. This morning, I’d like to share with you glimpses of the resurrection story of liberation as understood in the social gospel.
Won’t you pray with me? May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all of our hearts be a blessing to You, O God, our Strength and our Redeemer. Que las palabras de mi boca y la meditación de todos nuestros corazones sean de bendición para Ti, oh Dios, nuestra Fortaleza y nuestro Redentor. Amén.
Hoy quiero hablar con ustedes acerca de la liberación. Nuestro texto de esta mañana hace un esfuerzo especial para hacernos saber que Dios ve, oye y conoce los sufrimientos de un pueblo cautivo. Y luego Dios se une a nosotros en nuestra liberación. Una lectura cuidadosa del Éxodo revelará que la narración no muestra a Dios simplemente dividiendo las aguas, ni a Moisés. La liberación requirió actividades por parte de cada cautivo y todos los trabajadores se unieron. Como dice el maestro de la liberación brasileño Paulo Freire: “Nadie se salva a sí mismo. Nadie salva a nadie. Todos nos salvamos unos a otros en comunidad”.
Jesus’ healing of an anonymous woman with a flow of blood is found in all three of the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). I don’t have a Ph.D. in New Testament, but I did pay attention to what my professors said—especially when they made comments that could be applied broadly.
For example, NT Professor Pheme Perkins, who I studied with at Boston College School of Theology, said more than once in class, “If a story is mentioned in all three of the synoptics, you can trust that there is an historical basis for the events described in the story, and whatever happened had profound meaning to the first followers of Jesus and the early Christians.”
Today’s gospel reading is one of those stories. So is the story of Jairus’s daughter, which envelopes it. Note, that the healing story about the healing of this anonymous woman is a story within the story about the healing of Jairus’s daughter.
So what’s the buzz? What exactly is so important about these two stories in general, and the healing of the anonymous woman in particular?
In Chapter 4 of the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus gives his inaugural sermon in his home synagogue in Nazareth, right at the beginning of his Galilean ministry. He unrolls the scroll, finds his place and reads the following passage from Isaiah:
“The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because [God] has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. [God] has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Now if you open the book of Isaiah, you won’t find this exact passage because Luke has taken a few liberties with the translation. But it is a pretty close paraphrase of Isaiah Chapter 61, verse 1-2. Jesus tells his congregation that “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing,” and at first the congregation is pleased with his words. But as he continues to preach, the congregation gets increasingly more agitated and filled with rage. Finally, they decide they dislike what he says so much that they run him out of town and even try to throw him over a cliff. I appreciate that my sermons are generally more well-received here in my home congregation.
Good morning Church, on this third Sunday of Easter, our resurrection story pertains to being found. Have you ever been lost? Like really lost? I know I look young, but I recall navigating roads before GPS. How many of you recall breaking out the old trusty Rand McNally Atlas before a road trip? I recall adding up the mileage between stops to ensure I’d have enough gas in the tank to make it. Of course, gas was just over $1 back then, at least in some states that I drove through. On one momentous occasion 15 years ago, I recall driving up to Boston in our Volvo wagon. My wife, Yuliana, was the navigator, using our trusty Rand McNally Atlas, and it worked like a charm, that is, until we hit the streets of Beantown. With Rand McNally, one could easily navigate the avenues of Manhattan, but the twisting and winding roads of Boston would prove too much for our road atlas. Exiting Route 9 into the outer edges of the Hub of the Universe, we became truly lost. We needed a more detailed guide in order to make it to Holy Hill, once home to Andover Newton Theological School. And so, as night was fast approaching, we finally found a gas station with a city map, which helped us find our way to our then soon-to-be home.
Oftentimes when we’re lost along our journey, we attempt to go at it alone. Now, I could have made the decision to try and navigate with what we had, and perhaps we would have arrived by trial and error, and then again, perhaps much later. Being vulnerable, however, and stopping to ask for help avoided a lot of headache and spent gas on a tight budget. Of course today, we simply say, “Hey Siri,” and she plots out our routes. But when we find ourselves lost outside of road trips, things get more complicated.
We are fortunate that Denise Cuevas and Javier Orea and their families have joined us for worship and fellowship today, so that we can share in their joy, offer our prayers for God’s blessing on their life together, and congratulate them in person on this happy occasion.
Javier and Denise were married in a small family wedding ceremony at a winery to the north of us about two and one-half weeks ago. Stephanie and I were pleased to make the guest list, and I was honored to preside over their vows.
As I said to Denise and Javier during their wedding, “It’s not every couple who’s had the same boss much less asked the boss to marry them.” People have choices. I don’t take theirs for granted.
It was a blessing to be part of their wedding ceremony and wedding reception. I’ve attended quite a few weddings over the years. There are many similarities, but no two are the same. One of the nuances for me about the Orea’s wedding was watching them play a game to test their knowledge of each other.
The bride and groom were instructed to take off their shoes, sit back to back and hold one shoe of their own in one hand, and one of their partner’s shoes in the other. Javier’s favorite sister Andrea served as quiz master. The point of the game, ostensibly, was to see whether they knew each well enough to be getting married. Fortunately they passed. In fact, they both nearly got 100% of the questions correct. They better. They were high school sweethearts.
Read MoreMost of you know about my rural upbringing and that most of my relatives have been and still are engaged in agriculture. But what you may not know is that most of the women in my family have been teachers. And, much to the surprise of many of our contemporaries, some of us women have become elders and preachers in the church. True story.
My grandmother taught country school even though she only obtained an eighth grade education. My mother taught second grade before she was married to my father, even though she only completed two years of higher education. And she started teaching preschool when my sister and I were in high school, even though she did not have schooling in early childhood development.
Two of my aunts were teachers. One has been the go-to substitute teacher for the Garwin, Iowa school district. Another taught English at Iowa State University for the country version of students featured in “Welcome Back, Kotter.”
My twin sister went to college to become a high school science teacher. Her first teaching job was for the Tahlequah Nation in rural Oklahoma. Soon after, her children were born and she stepped out of the public school teaching for several years. When she went back, she switched from teaching the natural sciences to teaching English Language Learners. Now in “causi-retirement,” Professor Schwerin teaches ELL theory and methodologies to undergraduates and master’s degree candidates at a private university in Northwest Arkansas.
The classroom settings and the subject matters that my people have taught have varied, but all of them agree--and I concur--that reading and repeating stories to our children, from infancy to adulthood, is fundamental to brain development, language learning, and faith formation.
If we do not read to our children, they will never reach their full potential. They will have a much more difficult time learning to speak, and they may never fully come to know Jesus or the power or importance of the Easter message.
I know that I am not only “preaching to the choir,” this Easter Sunday, but I am also blessed to be preaching to a large number of people who have given their lives to the education of others. So I don’t have to wonder where there is agreement about the importance of reading and repeating stories to our younger ones. I trust that I’m getting an “Amen” on that. Amen?