July 2022
"Who's My Enemy?"
Fifth Sunday After Pentecost; based on Luke 10:25-37 (texts at end of post)
July 10, 2022
This week as I reflected on our Gospel reading, I wondered who might be a good Samaritan today.
A lot of people read this parable as an exemplary tale—encouraging us not to hesitate in offering aid to victims of crimes or accidents. However, those who first heard Jesus tell this story would have had a visceral reaction to the idea of a Samaritan helping anyone.
For most people in Jesus’s homeland hated Samaritans. And vice versa. Even though both were branches of the Jewish faith (kind of like our Christian denominations) they also shared a long history of cultural differences and political disagreements. In the same way that today, Ukrainians despise Russians, and Russians hate Ukrainians.
It would be easy for me to stop there and say that’s the kind of enemy Jesus had in mind when he talked about a good Samaritan. However, I can’t stop there. Even though most preachers do. But that’s not my style. Because I believe that to understand this parable, you and I have to make it personal.
And ask ourselves: Who is my enemy? So this week, I pondered that question. I first thought of individuals who have done something to offend or hurt me. Or threatened those I care about. Specific Supreme Court justices also came to mind. As did politicians who have passed state laws targeting our trans and queer youth. Some of those might be your enemy list, too. But then I remembered something that happened almost five years ago.
On October 1, 2017, a 64-year-old white man named Stephen Paddock opened fire on a crowd at a country music festival in Las Vegas. From his 32nd-floor hotel room, Paddock fired a thousand bullets, killing sixty people. The deadliest mass shooting committed by an individual in our country’s ongoing pandemic of gun violence, repeated again this week.
A couple weeks later, a neo-Nazi group announced it was going to hold a march here in Fargo. The organizer was a Fargo man named Peter Tefft. Tefft had attended a white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, that August. Where (as we all remember) a female counter-protester was killed by a car driven into a group of bystanders.
Tefft was interviewed by WDAY, and the story ran on CNN’s website.* Tefft claimed he wasn’t racist or a Nazi. But he didn’t deny the fascist label, stating: “I think fascism is just loving your family and doing what’s best for your nation.” Disturbing words for many of us.
Even Tefft’s family seems to find it easy to hate him. Tefft’s father submitted a letter to the Forum, in which he denounced his son’s racist activities. His letter included these words: “Peter Tefft, my son, is not welcome at our family gatherings any longer.” Referring to another one of Jesus’ parables, he adds: “I pray my prodigal son will renounce his hateful beliefs and return home. Then and only then will I lay out the feast.” *
In response to Tefft’s planned march here in Fargo a group of progressive clergy (including myself) decided to hold a Peace March on October 14, ending with an interfaith service with a reading of the names of the Las Vegas victims. David Myers from Temple Beth El was one of the readers.
The week before our Peace March, the neo-Nazi march was cancelled. Originally, our Peace March was going to end at Oak Grove Park with the prayer service outside, but because of rain it was moved to the Moorhead UCC church. Then a couple of days before our event, we received word that Peter Tefft might show up, possibly to disrupt our service. So, beforehand a handful of us prepared to be stationed at specific spots in the sanctuary to keep an eye out for Tefft, and alert the police officers who would be present.
I was assigned at the front entryway and lobby. Which, of course, was where Tefft entered. One of the police approached him first. They spoke briefly. Then the officer told us that Tefft had agreed not to cause a problem and remain silent in the back of the room.
Eventually, he moved over to where I was standing. When we made eye contact, I nodded and shook his hand. Not really knowing if that was the appropriate thing to do with someone I viewed as an enemy. Thankfully, the prayer service ended quietly. And Tefft departed unnoticed by many.
That experience stands out as a day when I came face to face with someone who is easy to hate. Someone I would never expect to show up at a prayer service for peace with good intentions. Someone I would never expect to show up in one of Jesus’s parables.
Yet, by inserting a “Samaritan” into this story, that is exactly what Jesus does. And that is exactly how we should read it. By substituting “Samaritan” with the name of a person who’s easy for us to hate. And with the face of my enemy. When we do that, we get the emotional impact of how this story originally sounded. The parable of the Good Samaritan is one of the best known of the forty-one parables of Jesus in the Bible. Yet many of Jesus’s stories have a plotline twist that surprised his listeners and is often missed by us.
In this parable, Jesus chooses a shocking protagonist. Instead of someone from his own faith community, Jesus chooses a Samaritan. A religious outsider. A despised foreigner. A personal enemy.
Based on that kind of animosity, you’d expect him to be the antagonist. Like the bad guy in so many video games and action movies. Instead, the Samaritan is the hero, who saves the injured man. A detail that still challenges our preconceived notions of what separates us from one another.
For today we are a divided nation—focused on the differences between us. Between conservative and progressive. Between black and white. Between pro-life and pro-choice. Between trans and cisgender. Between citizen and immigrant.
For many of us, it feels depressing and hopeless. Yet our Gospel lesson suggests that it’s not the first time something like this has happened in human history. For we humans are tribal by instinct and by habit. We feel most comfortable with—and usually care the most about—people like us. However, this parable of Jesus moves us to look at the world and our tribalism with new eyes.
And not ask ourselves the same question the lawyer asked Jesus: “Who’s my neighbor?” For Jesus knows it’s easy to love those who love us (see: Matthew 5:44-46). People like us who live next door. Who look like us. Who attend the same church or school. Instead, Jesus challenges us to ask the opposite question: “Who’s my enemy?” Just for a moment, imagine that you are the person attacked by robbers. You’ve been left beaten on a city street. When you look up, the face of the person who stops to help is your enemy.
Maybe someone you might normally fear because of their race or the way they look. Maybe someone you’d never ask for help. Yet, maybe, someone who could save you from your own brokenness and alienation. That person is your good Samaritan. The person who in this situation acts with the same kind of mercy Jesus preaches throughout the Gospels. The person, who for some unknown reason, takes your injured body and self to an inn. An unexpected embodiment of grace.
The original Greek text for “inn” is “pandocheion”—the only place in the Bible where this word is used. It comes from a verb meaning “to welcome,” and a noun meaning “everyone.” So, the inn in this parable is literally a place where, “all are welcome.” A word that exemplifies God’s love for all of us.
I like to think that’s the kind of welcome people find here at St. Mark’s. We talk about it a lot as an RIC congregation and with our Welcome Connection project.
It’s also the kind of welcome our congregation has received from Temple Beth El Synagogue—a Jewish community that faces the shocking rise of anti-Semitism even among so-called Christians in our world today. And would be completely justified in closing their doors to any church group. Yet, they graciously welcomed us three years ago.
A living parable for the kind of radical love Jesus taught and lived. The kind of healing love our divided world so badly needs. The kind of love we find at this welcome table. Amen.
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* https://www.cnn.com/2017/08/15/us/dad-charlottesville-rally-letter-trnd/index.html
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Gospel Lesson: Luke 10:25-37
Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live. “But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
A lot of people read this parable as an exemplary tale—encouraging us not to hesitate in offering aid to victims of crimes or accidents. However, those who first heard Jesus tell this story would have had a visceral reaction to the idea of a Samaritan helping anyone.
For most people in Jesus’s homeland hated Samaritans. And vice versa. Even though both were branches of the Jewish faith (kind of like our Christian denominations) they also shared a long history of cultural differences and political disagreements. In the same way that today, Ukrainians despise Russians, and Russians hate Ukrainians.
It would be easy for me to stop there and say that’s the kind of enemy Jesus had in mind when he talked about a good Samaritan. However, I can’t stop there. Even though most preachers do. But that’s not my style. Because I believe that to understand this parable, you and I have to make it personal.
And ask ourselves: Who is my enemy? So this week, I pondered that question. I first thought of individuals who have done something to offend or hurt me. Or threatened those I care about. Specific Supreme Court justices also came to mind. As did politicians who have passed state laws targeting our trans and queer youth. Some of those might be your enemy list, too. But then I remembered something that happened almost five years ago.
On October 1, 2017, a 64-year-old white man named Stephen Paddock opened fire on a crowd at a country music festival in Las Vegas. From his 32nd-floor hotel room, Paddock fired a thousand bullets, killing sixty people. The deadliest mass shooting committed by an individual in our country’s ongoing pandemic of gun violence, repeated again this week.
A couple weeks later, a neo-Nazi group announced it was going to hold a march here in Fargo. The organizer was a Fargo man named Peter Tefft. Tefft had attended a white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, that August. Where (as we all remember) a female counter-protester was killed by a car driven into a group of bystanders.
Tefft was interviewed by WDAY, and the story ran on CNN’s website.* Tefft claimed he wasn’t racist or a Nazi. But he didn’t deny the fascist label, stating: “I think fascism is just loving your family and doing what’s best for your nation.” Disturbing words for many of us.
Even Tefft’s family seems to find it easy to hate him. Tefft’s father submitted a letter to the Forum, in which he denounced his son’s racist activities. His letter included these words: “Peter Tefft, my son, is not welcome at our family gatherings any longer.” Referring to another one of Jesus’ parables, he adds: “I pray my prodigal son will renounce his hateful beliefs and return home. Then and only then will I lay out the feast.” *
In response to Tefft’s planned march here in Fargo a group of progressive clergy (including myself) decided to hold a Peace March on October 14, ending with an interfaith service with a reading of the names of the Las Vegas victims. David Myers from Temple Beth El was one of the readers.
The week before our Peace March, the neo-Nazi march was cancelled. Originally, our Peace March was going to end at Oak Grove Park with the prayer service outside, but because of rain it was moved to the Moorhead UCC church. Then a couple of days before our event, we received word that Peter Tefft might show up, possibly to disrupt our service. So, beforehand a handful of us prepared to be stationed at specific spots in the sanctuary to keep an eye out for Tefft, and alert the police officers who would be present.
I was assigned at the front entryway and lobby. Which, of course, was where Tefft entered. One of the police approached him first. They spoke briefly. Then the officer told us that Tefft had agreed not to cause a problem and remain silent in the back of the room.
Eventually, he moved over to where I was standing. When we made eye contact, I nodded and shook his hand. Not really knowing if that was the appropriate thing to do with someone I viewed as an enemy. Thankfully, the prayer service ended quietly. And Tefft departed unnoticed by many.
That experience stands out as a day when I came face to face with someone who is easy to hate. Someone I would never expect to show up at a prayer service for peace with good intentions. Someone I would never expect to show up in one of Jesus’s parables.
Yet, by inserting a “Samaritan” into this story, that is exactly what Jesus does. And that is exactly how we should read it. By substituting “Samaritan” with the name of a person who’s easy for us to hate. And with the face of my enemy. When we do that, we get the emotional impact of how this story originally sounded. The parable of the Good Samaritan is one of the best known of the forty-one parables of Jesus in the Bible. Yet many of Jesus’s stories have a plotline twist that surprised his listeners and is often missed by us.
In this parable, Jesus chooses a shocking protagonist. Instead of someone from his own faith community, Jesus chooses a Samaritan. A religious outsider. A despised foreigner. A personal enemy.
Based on that kind of animosity, you’d expect him to be the antagonist. Like the bad guy in so many video games and action movies. Instead, the Samaritan is the hero, who saves the injured man. A detail that still challenges our preconceived notions of what separates us from one another.
For today we are a divided nation—focused on the differences between us. Between conservative and progressive. Between black and white. Between pro-life and pro-choice. Between trans and cisgender. Between citizen and immigrant.
For many of us, it feels depressing and hopeless. Yet our Gospel lesson suggests that it’s not the first time something like this has happened in human history. For we humans are tribal by instinct and by habit. We feel most comfortable with—and usually care the most about—people like us. However, this parable of Jesus moves us to look at the world and our tribalism with new eyes.
And not ask ourselves the same question the lawyer asked Jesus: “Who’s my neighbor?” For Jesus knows it’s easy to love those who love us (see: Matthew 5:44-46). People like us who live next door. Who look like us. Who attend the same church or school. Instead, Jesus challenges us to ask the opposite question: “Who’s my enemy?” Just for a moment, imagine that you are the person attacked by robbers. You’ve been left beaten on a city street. When you look up, the face of the person who stops to help is your enemy.
Maybe someone you might normally fear because of their race or the way they look. Maybe someone you’d never ask for help. Yet, maybe, someone who could save you from your own brokenness and alienation. That person is your good Samaritan. The person who in this situation acts with the same kind of mercy Jesus preaches throughout the Gospels. The person, who for some unknown reason, takes your injured body and self to an inn. An unexpected embodiment of grace.
The original Greek text for “inn” is “pandocheion”—the only place in the Bible where this word is used. It comes from a verb meaning “to welcome,” and a noun meaning “everyone.” So, the inn in this parable is literally a place where, “all are welcome.” A word that exemplifies God’s love for all of us.
I like to think that’s the kind of welcome people find here at St. Mark’s. We talk about it a lot as an RIC congregation and with our Welcome Connection project.
It’s also the kind of welcome our congregation has received from Temple Beth El Synagogue—a Jewish community that faces the shocking rise of anti-Semitism even among so-called Christians in our world today. And would be completely justified in closing their doors to any church group. Yet, they graciously welcomed us three years ago.
A living parable for the kind of radical love Jesus taught and lived. The kind of healing love our divided world so badly needs. The kind of love we find at this welcome table. Amen.
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* https://www.cnn.com/2017/08/15/us/dad-charlottesville-rally-letter-trnd/index.html
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Gospel Lesson: Luke 10:25-37
Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live. “But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
"Caw! Caw! Caw!"
Fifth Sunday After Pentecost; based on Genesis 18:20-32; and Luke 11:1-13 (texts at end of post)
July 24, 2022
This past week, my husband Charlie and I traveled to Grand Marais, Minnesota—a town that I just love. And, of course, I signed up for a painting class—the seventh one I’ve taken at their Art Colony. It was called “Water and Woods: Abstraction and Nature.” Our instructor was an artist named Annie Hejny. The website included this course description:
“Join Annie for an indoor and outdoor nature-based painting workshop. Students will be guided through Annie’s painting techniques… including a water collection… [at] Lake Superior… and forest bathing walk…. The forest bathing walk… [is] an invitation into embodiment before diving into creativity.”
I have to admit that the sentences about forest bathing caused me a little anxiety. My mind pictured us in swimming suits, wading into a stream like a Baptist revival. Thankfully, “bathing” was just a metaphor for how we might feel cleansed by the trees and plants around us.
One morning, we caravanned to Pincushion Mountain. (And yes, there really are a few mountains in Minnesota!) There, Annie invited us to wander along the paths, looking for possible inspiration for our paintings. Since there were six students in the class—plus Charlie who joined us that morning—Annie suggested that we use a crow call as a signal for everyone to come back to the group. She demonstrated the call, which sounded like this: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” Then she asked us to repeat it. (And I invite you to join me now) “Caw! Caw! Caw!”
Then Annie sent us out to find a spot in the forest that felt like a safe space to sit or lie down for fifteen minutes, when she would do the crow call. I found a spot close by to meditate. It wasn’t long before I heard Annie’s call: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” Slowly everyone made their way back. Everyone that is, except Charlie. So again, Annie called: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” And again we waited. Still no Charlie. I started feeling a little worried, with visions of Charlie falling off a ridge or being mauled by a bear.
Then Annie asked us to call together: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” After a couple more rounds, Charlie finally appeared, looking bewildered. He told us he had followed the path back to the parking lot, where he found another path to a different part of the woods. So despite our persistence, Charlie never heard our calls.
Today’s Gospel lesson tells another story about persistence. But instead of a crow-call tale, Jesus tells a story about someone who goes to their neighbor’s house and asks for some bread. But it’s the middle of the night. And at first, the neighbor doesn’t hear the knocking.
So then, the persistent friend pounds on the door and yells the neighbor’s name. Which wakes him up. But he’s not in a good mood. “Dude, do you know what time it is? Go to bed!” But the friend is stubborn. He keeps shouting as loud as he can—which probably sounded more annoying than a crow call. Finally the neighbor gives in.
“And that,” Jesus says, “is what prayer is like. Just keep on asking, and you will receive. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened.” Prayer, Jesus suggests, is like a child begging a mother for that toy car he spies in the grocery store aisle. A toy he wants more than anything. And even though the mother’s first reaction is an aggravated, “no!”, the boy keeps whining and crying until his mom relents.
To which Jesus adds, “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!” Prayer, Jesus suggests, is not a one-way street, where all we do is ask God for things we want and need. Prayer, Jesus tells us, is a conversation that we beloved children have with our heavenly Mother. Prayer, Jesus assures us, will get results if we are persistent, because of God’s incredible grace.
Prayer, Jesus teaches, also commits us to living out mercy and justice and generosity in our lives. Where we honor the holiness of God’s name, by showing respect to our neighbors. Where we acknowledge the blessing of daily bread, by sharing that same bread with the hungry. Where we show our gratitude for God’s mercy, by forgiving those who sin against us and even those who hate us. Persistent compassion and crying out for the gentle rule of God to come to our world are the essence of prayer. Which sometimes includes wrestling with difficult situations and ethical issues without simple answers.
Today’s lesson from Genesis presents such a scenario. It’s a story about Abraham, the founder of the Jewish faith. A story that started last Sunday. A story about Abraham entertaining three strangers who show up one day at his tent to tell him some very good and unbelievable news—that his elderly wife Sarah is going to have a baby.
This week we hear the bad news. The holy threesome stops again at his tent, on their way to Sodom. And God confides with Abraham his plan to destroy the city in response to “the outcry” against its people. The Hebrew word used in this passage for “outcry” could be any kind of cry—even a crow’s cry. But this is a cry that God can’t ignore.
Then Abraham starts a persistent bargaining conversation with God about sparing innocent lives. “Does not the judge of the world do justice?” he argues. “If you find 50 righteous people,” Abraham says, “will you spare the city?” And God promises to do just that. But Abraham doesn’t stop his squawking. “What if there are 45?” he asks. Again, God relents.
But still Abraham keeps up his relentless query: “How about 40? Caw! Maybe 30? Caw! Caw! What about 20?” “Caw! Caw! Caw!” Each time, God listens and agrees. Finally, the Divine One promises that if there are just ten righteous ones, the city will be saved.
As a side note: For Jewish people, ten is the number of a “minyan”—the quorum for holding a formal Jewish worship service or meeting. Rabbi Janeen here at Temple Beth El has talked about that.
Returning to Abraham’s story, the narrative stops here in our weekly lessons (as part of our church lectionary.) We never hear the rest of the story about Sodom. But we all know what comes next. For this is the best known of seven “clobber passages” used by Christians to condemn homosexuality. Two of the holy envoys go to Sodom, where they’re welcomed by Abraham’s nephew Lot. But an angry crowd gathers at Lot’s house. They pound on his door. “Send out the strangers,” they scream with ugly words— “Caw! Caw! Caw!” But Lot refuses. Eventually the messengers help Lot escape with his wife and two daughters. A total of only four righteous ones. And God destroys Sodom and Gomorrah with fire and brimstone.
Many Christians use this story as a proof passage to claim that the Bible condemns LGBTQ+ people. However, it was not until the Middle Ages—1,200 years after Jesus—that this story was linked to homosexuality. And Jesus never, ever interprets the sin of Sodom as sexual. In fact, Jesus never says anything about homosexuality anywhere in the Gospels. Instead, Jesus joins other Biblical voices in calling out the sin of Sodom as inhospitality—in their abuse of strangers, neglect of the needy, and rejection of outsiders. Today, sadly, that sin of inhospitality continues. And we still hear persistent cries for justice.
This week our Bishop Tessa Moon Leiseth sent out a pastoral letter to our Eastern ND Synod in response to intense criticism directed at Park River Bible Camp, its executive director and board, and LGBTQ+ people. Here’s part of what Bishop Tessa says:
“I write to speak a clear word condemning the hate speech and lifting up our ELCA welcome and affirmation for all who identify as LGBTQ+…. When the ELCA Youth Gathering was canceled [earlier this year], Park River Bible Camp stepped forward to offer a week of camp in the spirit of the… Gathering. Speakers were invited who represent a variety of voices … often relegated to the margins but are important voices in God’s kingdom…. Concern was raised by some… centered around one of the… speakers, Pastor Drew Stever, an ELCA pastor who is openly transgender….
“My response to this situation is multi-fold. First, I welcome the presence of Pastor Drew Stever in
Eastern North Dakota…. His message of God’s boundless love through the lens of his life would have
been a gift to us all. Unfortunately, Pastor Stever chose to not come… for safety reasons. I lament that anyone would be made to feel… unsafe in our synod.” *
In her letter (which I encourage you to read), Bishop Tessa goes on to affirm the “validity, value, and inherent belovedness of each and every LGBTQ+ person.” To me, this story shows why our Church needs faith leaders like Bishop Tessa and the camp’s Executive Director Rebecca. Our Synod needs sanctuaries like St. Mark’s, where everyone can find a calm refuge, true acceptance and sincere love—free of the cacophony of hateful voices.
For we are God’s welcome to those who just need a place to call home. In this way, we create a safe space for us and all people—whoever we are, wherever we come from, and whomever we love. A place to hear words of hospitality, kindness and grace.
And to find comfort and fellowship in our midst. As together we walk the pilgrim path of this world. Held safely in the everlasting arms of our heavenly Mother. A God who always hears our cries. Amen.
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https://myemail.constantcontact.com/A-Pastoral-Letter-from-Bishop-Moon-Leiseth.html?soid=1138323520124&aid=2V4YOeyMn5E
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First Reading: Genesis 18:20-32
Then the LORD said, “How great is the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah and how very grave their sin! I must go down and see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me; and if not, I will know.” So the men turned from there, and went toward Sodom, while Abraham remained standing before the LORD. Then Abraham came near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” And the LORD said, “If I find at Sodom fifty righteous in the city, I will forgive the whole place for their sake.” Abraham answered, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to the Lord, I who am but dust and ashes. Suppose five of the fifty righteous are lacking? Will you destroy the whole city for lack of five?” And he said, “I will not destroy it if I find forty-five there.” Again he spoke to him, “Suppose forty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of forty I will not do it.” Then he said, “Oh do not let the Lord be angry if I speak. Suppose thirty are found there.” He answered, “I will not do it, if I find thirty there.” He said, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to the Lord. Suppose twenty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of twenty I will not destroy it.” Then he said, “Oh do not let the Lord be angry if I speak just once more. Suppose ten are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it.”
Gospel Lesson: Luke 11:1-13
[Jesus] was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” He said to them, “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.” And he 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!”
“Join Annie for an indoor and outdoor nature-based painting workshop. Students will be guided through Annie’s painting techniques… including a water collection… [at] Lake Superior… and forest bathing walk…. The forest bathing walk… [is] an invitation into embodiment before diving into creativity.”
I have to admit that the sentences about forest bathing caused me a little anxiety. My mind pictured us in swimming suits, wading into a stream like a Baptist revival. Thankfully, “bathing” was just a metaphor for how we might feel cleansed by the trees and plants around us.
One morning, we caravanned to Pincushion Mountain. (And yes, there really are a few mountains in Minnesota!) There, Annie invited us to wander along the paths, looking for possible inspiration for our paintings. Since there were six students in the class—plus Charlie who joined us that morning—Annie suggested that we use a crow call as a signal for everyone to come back to the group. She demonstrated the call, which sounded like this: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” Then she asked us to repeat it. (And I invite you to join me now) “Caw! Caw! Caw!”
Then Annie sent us out to find a spot in the forest that felt like a safe space to sit or lie down for fifteen minutes, when she would do the crow call. I found a spot close by to meditate. It wasn’t long before I heard Annie’s call: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” Slowly everyone made their way back. Everyone that is, except Charlie. So again, Annie called: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” And again we waited. Still no Charlie. I started feeling a little worried, with visions of Charlie falling off a ridge or being mauled by a bear.
Then Annie asked us to call together: “Caw! Caw! Caw!” After a couple more rounds, Charlie finally appeared, looking bewildered. He told us he had followed the path back to the parking lot, where he found another path to a different part of the woods. So despite our persistence, Charlie never heard our calls.
Today’s Gospel lesson tells another story about persistence. But instead of a crow-call tale, Jesus tells a story about someone who goes to their neighbor’s house and asks for some bread. But it’s the middle of the night. And at first, the neighbor doesn’t hear the knocking.
So then, the persistent friend pounds on the door and yells the neighbor’s name. Which wakes him up. But he’s not in a good mood. “Dude, do you know what time it is? Go to bed!” But the friend is stubborn. He keeps shouting as loud as he can—which probably sounded more annoying than a crow call. Finally the neighbor gives in.
“And that,” Jesus says, “is what prayer is like. Just keep on asking, and you will receive. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened.” Prayer, Jesus suggests, is like a child begging a mother for that toy car he spies in the grocery store aisle. A toy he wants more than anything. And even though the mother’s first reaction is an aggravated, “no!”, the boy keeps whining and crying until his mom relents.
To which Jesus adds, “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!” Prayer, Jesus suggests, is not a one-way street, where all we do is ask God for things we want and need. Prayer, Jesus tells us, is a conversation that we beloved children have with our heavenly Mother. Prayer, Jesus assures us, will get results if we are persistent, because of God’s incredible grace.
Prayer, Jesus teaches, also commits us to living out mercy and justice and generosity in our lives. Where we honor the holiness of God’s name, by showing respect to our neighbors. Where we acknowledge the blessing of daily bread, by sharing that same bread with the hungry. Where we show our gratitude for God’s mercy, by forgiving those who sin against us and even those who hate us. Persistent compassion and crying out for the gentle rule of God to come to our world are the essence of prayer. Which sometimes includes wrestling with difficult situations and ethical issues without simple answers.
Today’s lesson from Genesis presents such a scenario. It’s a story about Abraham, the founder of the Jewish faith. A story that started last Sunday. A story about Abraham entertaining three strangers who show up one day at his tent to tell him some very good and unbelievable news—that his elderly wife Sarah is going to have a baby.
This week we hear the bad news. The holy threesome stops again at his tent, on their way to Sodom. And God confides with Abraham his plan to destroy the city in response to “the outcry” against its people. The Hebrew word used in this passage for “outcry” could be any kind of cry—even a crow’s cry. But this is a cry that God can’t ignore.
Then Abraham starts a persistent bargaining conversation with God about sparing innocent lives. “Does not the judge of the world do justice?” he argues. “If you find 50 righteous people,” Abraham says, “will you spare the city?” And God promises to do just that. But Abraham doesn’t stop his squawking. “What if there are 45?” he asks. Again, God relents.
But still Abraham keeps up his relentless query: “How about 40? Caw! Maybe 30? Caw! Caw! What about 20?” “Caw! Caw! Caw!” Each time, God listens and agrees. Finally, the Divine One promises that if there are just ten righteous ones, the city will be saved.
As a side note: For Jewish people, ten is the number of a “minyan”—the quorum for holding a formal Jewish worship service or meeting. Rabbi Janeen here at Temple Beth El has talked about that.
Returning to Abraham’s story, the narrative stops here in our weekly lessons (as part of our church lectionary.) We never hear the rest of the story about Sodom. But we all know what comes next. For this is the best known of seven “clobber passages” used by Christians to condemn homosexuality. Two of the holy envoys go to Sodom, where they’re welcomed by Abraham’s nephew Lot. But an angry crowd gathers at Lot’s house. They pound on his door. “Send out the strangers,” they scream with ugly words— “Caw! Caw! Caw!” But Lot refuses. Eventually the messengers help Lot escape with his wife and two daughters. A total of only four righteous ones. And God destroys Sodom and Gomorrah with fire and brimstone.
Many Christians use this story as a proof passage to claim that the Bible condemns LGBTQ+ people. However, it was not until the Middle Ages—1,200 years after Jesus—that this story was linked to homosexuality. And Jesus never, ever interprets the sin of Sodom as sexual. In fact, Jesus never says anything about homosexuality anywhere in the Gospels. Instead, Jesus joins other Biblical voices in calling out the sin of Sodom as inhospitality—in their abuse of strangers, neglect of the needy, and rejection of outsiders. Today, sadly, that sin of inhospitality continues. And we still hear persistent cries for justice.
This week our Bishop Tessa Moon Leiseth sent out a pastoral letter to our Eastern ND Synod in response to intense criticism directed at Park River Bible Camp, its executive director and board, and LGBTQ+ people. Here’s part of what Bishop Tessa says:
“I write to speak a clear word condemning the hate speech and lifting up our ELCA welcome and affirmation for all who identify as LGBTQ+…. When the ELCA Youth Gathering was canceled [earlier this year], Park River Bible Camp stepped forward to offer a week of camp in the spirit of the… Gathering. Speakers were invited who represent a variety of voices … often relegated to the margins but are important voices in God’s kingdom…. Concern was raised by some… centered around one of the… speakers, Pastor Drew Stever, an ELCA pastor who is openly transgender….
“My response to this situation is multi-fold. First, I welcome the presence of Pastor Drew Stever in
Eastern North Dakota…. His message of God’s boundless love through the lens of his life would have
been a gift to us all. Unfortunately, Pastor Stever chose to not come… for safety reasons. I lament that anyone would be made to feel… unsafe in our synod.” *
In her letter (which I encourage you to read), Bishop Tessa goes on to affirm the “validity, value, and inherent belovedness of each and every LGBTQ+ person.” To me, this story shows why our Church needs faith leaders like Bishop Tessa and the camp’s Executive Director Rebecca. Our Synod needs sanctuaries like St. Mark’s, where everyone can find a calm refuge, true acceptance and sincere love—free of the cacophony of hateful voices.
For we are God’s welcome to those who just need a place to call home. In this way, we create a safe space for us and all people—whoever we are, wherever we come from, and whomever we love. A place to hear words of hospitality, kindness and grace.
And to find comfort and fellowship in our midst. As together we walk the pilgrim path of this world. Held safely in the everlasting arms of our heavenly Mother. A God who always hears our cries. Amen.
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First Reading: Genesis 18:20-32
Then the LORD said, “How great is the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah and how very grave their sin! I must go down and see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me; and if not, I will know.” So the men turned from there, and went toward Sodom, while Abraham remained standing before the LORD. Then Abraham came near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” And the LORD said, “If I find at Sodom fifty righteous in the city, I will forgive the whole place for their sake.” Abraham answered, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to the Lord, I who am but dust and ashes. Suppose five of the fifty righteous are lacking? Will you destroy the whole city for lack of five?” And he said, “I will not destroy it if I find forty-five there.” Again he spoke to him, “Suppose forty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of forty I will not do it.” Then he said, “Oh do not let the Lord be angry if I speak. Suppose thirty are found there.” He answered, “I will not do it, if I find thirty there.” He said, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to the Lord. Suppose twenty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of twenty I will not destroy it.” Then he said, “Oh do not let the Lord be angry if I speak just once more. Suppose ten are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it.”
Gospel Lesson: Luke 11:1-13
[Jesus] was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” He said to them, “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.” And he 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!”