July 2019
July 21, 2019
"Sisters," based on Luke 10:38-42
(reading follows the sermon)
Today’s Gospel lesson reminds me of times when I’ve had to act as peacemaker between people who don’t get along. When I was Executive Director of The Aliveness Project, we had an onsite meal program that served hot meals for people living with HIV/AIDS. We served 10 meals per week, with about 80 people at each meal. Deb was the Director of Food Services. She had worked for us on and off over the years. Deb was a dedicated, hard worker. And her Meal Program staff were our front-line workers—dealing face-to-face with just about everyone who came through our front door.
They served as gracious hosts to the newly-infected young man, or the homeless woman who was so grateful for a hot meal on a cold winter day. They also were the sounding board for clients who sometimes said critical and hurtful things. Deb and her staff and volunteers faced that on a daily basis.
Another major program was our Medical Case Management Program. Our case managers helped individuals who were often in crisis—with overdue rent, unpaid utility bills, debilitating depression, abusive relationships, and huge medical expenses. Each social worker had 40-50 clients, a daunting caseload. Laurie was director of that program. Normally, Deb and Laurie got along. For they had a lot in common. Both were strong, independent women. Both were in their 40s with husbands. Both were Jewish. Both were skilled managers. Both were fierce advocates for their clients. Both were unafraid to say what they thought. And, let me tell you, they did. Often. To me.
Their major disagreement with each other focused on the silos that separated their programs. Deb would complain the case managers never stepped up to help on days when the kitchen was understaffed and overwhelmed with the number of meals to be served. Laurie would tell me that the meal program staff seemed to think her case managers just sat in their offices chatting with clients. And sometimes their cooks seemed unwilling to bend the rules, like giving a sandwich-to-go for a client who had no food at home. Our directors’ meetings could sometime dissolve into a gripe session about who had said what, or what someone did or didn’t do. My job was to listen, and listen, and listen. To make sure everyone felt heard. And then negotiate and reconcile and navigate a solution to the most recent disagreement.
In today’s Gospel story, Jesus faces a similar dilemma. Martha and Mary. Two strong women. Two fierce followers of Jesus. Two female faith leaders who didn’t get much recognition from their male team members. Two very different personalities. A talkative extrovert who says what she thinks. A reserved introvert, who likes to reflect and listen. Along all with that, you throw in family dynamics. Two sisters who don’t always get along. One kind of bossy, who acts like a mother. The other a baby sister, used to getting away with things her older sibling could never do. Predictable behavior related to birth order. Yet, together, they form a family. We assume both parents died long before. For it was unusual in that day for two women to run a household.
It’s easy to read this passage from Luke simply as an argument between two sisters. And to hear what Jesus says as a shame-filled admonishment to the stressed-out Martha. However, I think there are deeper layers of meaning hidden behind their bickering. Today, we read this story with a very domesticated eye. And a lot of gender-based assumptions. We assume Martha is serving a meal. After all, that’s what women do, right? But the text doesn’t mention food. The original Greek word is “diakonia,” which can refer to any kind of service. “Diakonia” is also used in the New Testament to refer to Christian ministry. That’s where we get our English word “deacon.”
So, instead of cooking a meal, you could read this passage as Martha being busy coordinating various ministries offered to the followers of Jesus. Instead of a stereotypical church lady, Martha is a pastor ministering to all those who came to hear Jesus. And her home was probably one of the original house churches used by the first Christians, and popular again today. Thinking of Martha and Mary as deacons or pastors opens up a new vantage point see this story. To recognize these women as significant leaders. In fact, in the Jewish faith community at that time, sitting at a teacher’s feet was considered a place of honor for a male disciple. So, when Jesus praises Mary for acting that way, he shatters traditional expectations for women.
The New Testament points toward extensive female leadership in the early Church. For example, in the last chapter of Romans, Paul thanks 27 people for their missionary work—one third of whom are women, including the female pair Tryphena and Tryphosa. Early missionaries often worked in pairs, and male-female couples were assumed to be married. Which makes me wonder about the nature of Martha and Mary’s relationship. In English translations, they’re called sisters, but in the original text, the language is less exact— “sisters” could refer to sisters in Christ, or biological siblings, but also possibly lesbian partners.
I love the idea of imagining them as positive role models in Scripture for us queer Christians—especially because the Bible has been used in so many negative ways against us. For like Martha and Mary, Jesus calls people of all genders and sexual orientations to serve God in the style that best fits your and my personal identity, skills and gifts. Or, as Jesus says, to choose “the better part” or role for you. Each of us has our way of doing ministry. You might prefer doing things like Martha. Here at St. Mark’s some of you enjoy doing ministries focused on people or social justice activities. Like Jane serving meals to the homeless at Churches United. Or Tara serving as council president. Or Mary Jane leading a Habitat for Humanity project. Or Linda going with a group to Guatemala.
On the other hand, some of you might like to follow Mary’s example by focusing on spiritual reflection and worship. Like Ruth reading a lesson today. Or Ryu playing the piano. Or Amelia bringing forward the communion bread. Or Rabbi Janeen leading services at Temple Beth El Synagogue, our new interfaith partner. Like Martha and Mary, we have many female leaders who play major roles here at St. Mark’s, alongside male and transgender friends and members. And today, Jesus calls all of us to be part of God’s reconciling ministry in our world. As St. Paul writes in our second lesson: “For through [Christ Jesus] God was pleased to reconcile all things to [God].” As reconciled members of the Body of Christ, this is the promise we have together: that God loves us and empowers each of us—despite our personal differences—to do ministry in our own unique way. And like Martha and Mary, we share God’s love through worship, prayer and service with those in need in our community. Amen.
+ + +
Luke 10:38-42
Now as Jesus and the disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."
They served as gracious hosts to the newly-infected young man, or the homeless woman who was so grateful for a hot meal on a cold winter day. They also were the sounding board for clients who sometimes said critical and hurtful things. Deb and her staff and volunteers faced that on a daily basis.
Another major program was our Medical Case Management Program. Our case managers helped individuals who were often in crisis—with overdue rent, unpaid utility bills, debilitating depression, abusive relationships, and huge medical expenses. Each social worker had 40-50 clients, a daunting caseload. Laurie was director of that program. Normally, Deb and Laurie got along. For they had a lot in common. Both were strong, independent women. Both were in their 40s with husbands. Both were Jewish. Both were skilled managers. Both were fierce advocates for their clients. Both were unafraid to say what they thought. And, let me tell you, they did. Often. To me.
Their major disagreement with each other focused on the silos that separated their programs. Deb would complain the case managers never stepped up to help on days when the kitchen was understaffed and overwhelmed with the number of meals to be served. Laurie would tell me that the meal program staff seemed to think her case managers just sat in their offices chatting with clients. And sometimes their cooks seemed unwilling to bend the rules, like giving a sandwich-to-go for a client who had no food at home. Our directors’ meetings could sometime dissolve into a gripe session about who had said what, or what someone did or didn’t do. My job was to listen, and listen, and listen. To make sure everyone felt heard. And then negotiate and reconcile and navigate a solution to the most recent disagreement.
In today’s Gospel story, Jesus faces a similar dilemma. Martha and Mary. Two strong women. Two fierce followers of Jesus. Two female faith leaders who didn’t get much recognition from their male team members. Two very different personalities. A talkative extrovert who says what she thinks. A reserved introvert, who likes to reflect and listen. Along all with that, you throw in family dynamics. Two sisters who don’t always get along. One kind of bossy, who acts like a mother. The other a baby sister, used to getting away with things her older sibling could never do. Predictable behavior related to birth order. Yet, together, they form a family. We assume both parents died long before. For it was unusual in that day for two women to run a household.
It’s easy to read this passage from Luke simply as an argument between two sisters. And to hear what Jesus says as a shame-filled admonishment to the stressed-out Martha. However, I think there are deeper layers of meaning hidden behind their bickering. Today, we read this story with a very domesticated eye. And a lot of gender-based assumptions. We assume Martha is serving a meal. After all, that’s what women do, right? But the text doesn’t mention food. The original Greek word is “diakonia,” which can refer to any kind of service. “Diakonia” is also used in the New Testament to refer to Christian ministry. That’s where we get our English word “deacon.”
So, instead of cooking a meal, you could read this passage as Martha being busy coordinating various ministries offered to the followers of Jesus. Instead of a stereotypical church lady, Martha is a pastor ministering to all those who came to hear Jesus. And her home was probably one of the original house churches used by the first Christians, and popular again today. Thinking of Martha and Mary as deacons or pastors opens up a new vantage point see this story. To recognize these women as significant leaders. In fact, in the Jewish faith community at that time, sitting at a teacher’s feet was considered a place of honor for a male disciple. So, when Jesus praises Mary for acting that way, he shatters traditional expectations for women.
The New Testament points toward extensive female leadership in the early Church. For example, in the last chapter of Romans, Paul thanks 27 people for their missionary work—one third of whom are women, including the female pair Tryphena and Tryphosa. Early missionaries often worked in pairs, and male-female couples were assumed to be married. Which makes me wonder about the nature of Martha and Mary’s relationship. In English translations, they’re called sisters, but in the original text, the language is less exact— “sisters” could refer to sisters in Christ, or biological siblings, but also possibly lesbian partners.
I love the idea of imagining them as positive role models in Scripture for us queer Christians—especially because the Bible has been used in so many negative ways against us. For like Martha and Mary, Jesus calls people of all genders and sexual orientations to serve God in the style that best fits your and my personal identity, skills and gifts. Or, as Jesus says, to choose “the better part” or role for you. Each of us has our way of doing ministry. You might prefer doing things like Martha. Here at St. Mark’s some of you enjoy doing ministries focused on people or social justice activities. Like Jane serving meals to the homeless at Churches United. Or Tara serving as council president. Or Mary Jane leading a Habitat for Humanity project. Or Linda going with a group to Guatemala.
On the other hand, some of you might like to follow Mary’s example by focusing on spiritual reflection and worship. Like Ruth reading a lesson today. Or Ryu playing the piano. Or Amelia bringing forward the communion bread. Or Rabbi Janeen leading services at Temple Beth El Synagogue, our new interfaith partner. Like Martha and Mary, we have many female leaders who play major roles here at St. Mark’s, alongside male and transgender friends and members. And today, Jesus calls all of us to be part of God’s reconciling ministry in our world. As St. Paul writes in our second lesson: “For through [Christ Jesus] God was pleased to reconcile all things to [God].” As reconciled members of the Body of Christ, this is the promise we have together: that God loves us and empowers each of us—despite our personal differences—to do ministry in our own unique way. And like Martha and Mary, we share God’s love through worship, prayer and service with those in need in our community. Amen.
+ + +
Luke 10:38-42
Now as Jesus and the disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."
July 28, 2019
"Keep on Knocking," based on Luke 11:5-13
(reading follows the sermon)
In the summer of 1990, my husband Charlie and I went on a trip to Spain. Though, of course, back then we weren’t married. No gay couples were. We’d only been together about 10 months. Earlier that year, Charlie had signed up for a summer course for Spanish teachers in Madrid. So, I decided to join him. I’d never been to Europe before. I’d minored in Spanish in college and looked forward to visiting a country with so much history. With beautiful castles and museums and churches.
Once there, we traveled to various cities. In Salamanca, we went to visit the cathedral. At the entrance, I saw graffiti painted on the ancient door—large white letters that said in Spanish: “Soy lesbiana, porque me da la gana!” A poem that’s really a gay rights chant, meaning: “I’m lesbian, because I feel like it!” Shameless words of pride. Shocking words for any Spaniard. Symbolic words on a church door. Words of courageous opposition to closed-door policies of Catholics and Protestants regarding LGBTQ individuals three decades ago. A stance still held by many Christians. Words that echo a meaning of the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel reading. Where Jesus says, “Knock, and the door will be opened for you.”
This is a familiar verse for most of us. But after two millennia of Christianity, it’s easy to miss the bold promise Jesus makes. For Jesus doesn’t say, “Knock, and maybe someone might answer.” Or, “knock, and we might open the door a crack.” Which is the kind of answer many hear today. Like queer people, who have been so bullied by the Church that we are happy when Christians grant us a qualified welcome. Like people of color, who face racism on a daily basis, but are told not to complain about microaggressions, or past misdeeds, or inaction by politicians. Or like immigrants, who are told how lucky they are to be in this country, and that if they don’t like it, they should just go back.
Recently, President Trump took to Twitter, criticizing “The Squad,” the four women of color in Congress who represent his worst nightmare: they aren’t white, and they’re women who aren’t afraid to say what they think. Many suggest people like that should just accept what they’ve received with “gratitude.” To stop knocking on the door, asking for more. More acceptance, more understanding, more protections, more power.
Recently I read an article by John Paul Brammer, a US citizen whose mother is Mexican American. Brammer addresses the issue of white privileged people expecting gratitude from immigrants. He wrote: “But [from my perspective, that] kind of gratitude is the enemy of self-assertion…. [For] if we are made to feel like perpetual foreigners in our own homes, we will be less likely to advocate for ourselves and to ask for better treatment. I’ve seen this sentiment… among Mexican Americans as well as LGBTQ people. For some, there is stigma and shame in asking for too much, for being loud, for the audacity of voicing our discontent. 1 I believe that the words of Jesus we heard this morning speak in stark contrast to the voices of today’s world.
The parable Jesus tells about the pesky neighbor repeats that message. The man wants to show hospitality to his visitors but needs to borrow some bread. So, at midnight he goes to his neighbor’s house, and knocks and knocks and knocks. Until his groggy and grumpy friend finally opens the door and gives him what he wants. The author of Luke puts these words in the context of prayer. But some Biblical scholars believe Jesus originally taught these sayings to the first disciples he sent out in pairs to share the Good News. Itinerant preachers. Instructed by Jesus to carry nothing. With no home base. As a result, they had to learn to ask for what they needed. They were completely dependent on the hospitality of others for food and shelter.
A ministry of collaborative hospitality that reflects the gracious welcome we find with God. The same kind of hospitality our congregation has received from Temple Beth El Synagogue. For like the people of Israel in our first reading from the very last verses of the book of Exodus, St. Mark’s is a wandering community. And just like the people of Israel, the cloud of God’s holy presence has followed us along each stage of our journey. Providing everything needed both by them and by us. During the past 6 years, we have been dependent on the grace of God and the hospitality of others as our ministry has moved from place to place. Along the way, God opened many doors. And today, God has led us to a new door.
At the time we moved here 28 months ago, Prairie St. John’s told us about their plans to build a new hospital but didn’t know when—until this year. When we started looking for a new worship space back in January, I really didn’t think it would be that hard. However, our search took nearly six months! We had to do a lot of door-knocking both literally and figuratively, with about 45 different options. So, here we are today—ready to begin a new path in our pilgrim journey.
This is our last day of worship here. A day to remember the good things experienced in this space. A day to grieve the loss of this lovely home. A day to celebrate God’s abiding presence among us in this sacred sanctuary. On Tuesday, everything here will be moved. And we will close these chapel doors one last time. Next Sunday, we will joyfully gather before God, as we pass through the doors of a new sanctuary. And God’s presence will follow us there.
Together, our faith has allowed us to see amazing possibilities for our congregation. And I believe our new sanctuary will be a place people come looking for unqualified acceptance. A place to find God’s undeserved grace. A place to feel God’s loving embrace. A place to lean on God’s arms during the darkest days and most difficult steps of our journey. A place with a door that opened to us even before we stopped knocking. With words of hospitality boldly emblazoned on the hearts of everyone inside. A place where, no matter who you are, or where you come from, or whomever you love, you are truly welcome both here and there. Amen.
--------------------------------------------
1 Brammar, John Paul, “Stop Demanding People of Color to Show ‘Gratitude’”, Out Magazine, July 19, 2019; https://www.out.com/…/stop-demanding-people-color-show-grat…
+ + +
Exodus 40:34-38
Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting because the cloud settled upon it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Whenever the cloud was taken up from the tabernacle, the Israelites would set out on each stage of their journey; but if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not set out until the day that it was taken up. For the cloud of the LORD was on the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, before the eyes of all the house of Israel at each stage of their journey.
Luke 11:5-13
And [Jesus] said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs. “So, I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
Once there, we traveled to various cities. In Salamanca, we went to visit the cathedral. At the entrance, I saw graffiti painted on the ancient door—large white letters that said in Spanish: “Soy lesbiana, porque me da la gana!” A poem that’s really a gay rights chant, meaning: “I’m lesbian, because I feel like it!” Shameless words of pride. Shocking words for any Spaniard. Symbolic words on a church door. Words of courageous opposition to closed-door policies of Catholics and Protestants regarding LGBTQ individuals three decades ago. A stance still held by many Christians. Words that echo a meaning of the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel reading. Where Jesus says, “Knock, and the door will be opened for you.”
This is a familiar verse for most of us. But after two millennia of Christianity, it’s easy to miss the bold promise Jesus makes. For Jesus doesn’t say, “Knock, and maybe someone might answer.” Or, “knock, and we might open the door a crack.” Which is the kind of answer many hear today. Like queer people, who have been so bullied by the Church that we are happy when Christians grant us a qualified welcome. Like people of color, who face racism on a daily basis, but are told not to complain about microaggressions, or past misdeeds, or inaction by politicians. Or like immigrants, who are told how lucky they are to be in this country, and that if they don’t like it, they should just go back.
Recently, President Trump took to Twitter, criticizing “The Squad,” the four women of color in Congress who represent his worst nightmare: they aren’t white, and they’re women who aren’t afraid to say what they think. Many suggest people like that should just accept what they’ve received with “gratitude.” To stop knocking on the door, asking for more. More acceptance, more understanding, more protections, more power.
Recently I read an article by John Paul Brammer, a US citizen whose mother is Mexican American. Brammer addresses the issue of white privileged people expecting gratitude from immigrants. He wrote: “But [from my perspective, that] kind of gratitude is the enemy of self-assertion…. [For] if we are made to feel like perpetual foreigners in our own homes, we will be less likely to advocate for ourselves and to ask for better treatment. I’ve seen this sentiment… among Mexican Americans as well as LGBTQ people. For some, there is stigma and shame in asking for too much, for being loud, for the audacity of voicing our discontent. 1 I believe that the words of Jesus we heard this morning speak in stark contrast to the voices of today’s world.
The parable Jesus tells about the pesky neighbor repeats that message. The man wants to show hospitality to his visitors but needs to borrow some bread. So, at midnight he goes to his neighbor’s house, and knocks and knocks and knocks. Until his groggy and grumpy friend finally opens the door and gives him what he wants. The author of Luke puts these words in the context of prayer. But some Biblical scholars believe Jesus originally taught these sayings to the first disciples he sent out in pairs to share the Good News. Itinerant preachers. Instructed by Jesus to carry nothing. With no home base. As a result, they had to learn to ask for what they needed. They were completely dependent on the hospitality of others for food and shelter.
A ministry of collaborative hospitality that reflects the gracious welcome we find with God. The same kind of hospitality our congregation has received from Temple Beth El Synagogue. For like the people of Israel in our first reading from the very last verses of the book of Exodus, St. Mark’s is a wandering community. And just like the people of Israel, the cloud of God’s holy presence has followed us along each stage of our journey. Providing everything needed both by them and by us. During the past 6 years, we have been dependent on the grace of God and the hospitality of others as our ministry has moved from place to place. Along the way, God opened many doors. And today, God has led us to a new door.
At the time we moved here 28 months ago, Prairie St. John’s told us about their plans to build a new hospital but didn’t know when—until this year. When we started looking for a new worship space back in January, I really didn’t think it would be that hard. However, our search took nearly six months! We had to do a lot of door-knocking both literally and figuratively, with about 45 different options. So, here we are today—ready to begin a new path in our pilgrim journey.
This is our last day of worship here. A day to remember the good things experienced in this space. A day to grieve the loss of this lovely home. A day to celebrate God’s abiding presence among us in this sacred sanctuary. On Tuesday, everything here will be moved. And we will close these chapel doors one last time. Next Sunday, we will joyfully gather before God, as we pass through the doors of a new sanctuary. And God’s presence will follow us there.
Together, our faith has allowed us to see amazing possibilities for our congregation. And I believe our new sanctuary will be a place people come looking for unqualified acceptance. A place to find God’s undeserved grace. A place to feel God’s loving embrace. A place to lean on God’s arms during the darkest days and most difficult steps of our journey. A place with a door that opened to us even before we stopped knocking. With words of hospitality boldly emblazoned on the hearts of everyone inside. A place where, no matter who you are, or where you come from, or whomever you love, you are truly welcome both here and there. Amen.
--------------------------------------------
1 Brammar, John Paul, “Stop Demanding People of Color to Show ‘Gratitude’”, Out Magazine, July 19, 2019; https://www.out.com/…/stop-demanding-people-color-show-grat…
+ + +
Exodus 40:34-38
Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting because the cloud settled upon it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Whenever the cloud was taken up from the tabernacle, the Israelites would set out on each stage of their journey; but if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not set out until the day that it was taken up. For the cloud of the LORD was on the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, before the eyes of all the house of Israel at each stage of their journey.
Luke 11:5-13
And [Jesus] said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs. “So, I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”