An American Advent: Esther

You will find them in the reeds when Moses floats down the river. She is the unseen young girl whose parents were taken during the war. Before anyone else finds out, the angel first proclaimed the good news for all the world to her.

The Bible is nothing if not shocking. When something big is about to happen, it does not first happen among the mighty and powerful. Elected leaders do not shape the story of Scripture. Those with political importance are only center stage when they have messed it up.

The infant Moses was saved when two young girls took charge. It is teenage Mary who first received the good news of Jesus’ coming. And no one suspected Esther.

Esther’s story is told in ten chapters that famously make no mention of God. She was a Jew raised by her Jewish cousin, Mordecai, after her parents were taken in the Babylonian Exile. When the non-Jewish king went on the hunt for a new pretty face, Esther won his favor. Later, Mordecai overheard a plot to exterminate the Jews and urged Esther to use her place in the king’s favor to stop it. He said, “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.”

This Advent series challenges you to notice an Advent hope for our own nation. In America, the land of the divided and the home of finger-pointers, we tend to look for hope in all the wrong places. We look for hope among the wealthy, the mighty, and within our own political party. We blame and bicker, boo and belittle.

And no one suspects Esther.

Upon Mordecai’s urging, Esther went to work. When no one suspects you of changing the world, you have plenty of permission to do so. And she did.

As America waits for a better economy, a better selection of political candidates, a better nation, Esther is a story of what to do while you wait. She wasted no time blaming or bickering. She, a young woman in a man’s world, the unseen girl with tragedy as her backstory, hatched a Shakesperean plan that concluded: “…and if I perish, I perish.”

While we spend these Advent weeks waiting for the birth of a Savior and waiting for Jesus to come again and waiting for a better America, how are you waiting? Are you blaming the leaders you elected because America does not look how you want? Are you bickering with those who see the nation differently when all this time you could be the unsuspecting whisperer of hope?

Let’s move the spotlight from the nation to the Christmas dinner table that awaits you. You know, the table you may be dreading because the very people who bother you most will be seated beside you. People who see the nation differently, or your family history differently. People you successfully avoid most of the year. I recently listened to a podcast in which a listener asked if it is possible to just end it with her family because she’d had enough of them. If you are dreading the Christmas dinner table, it appears you are not alone.

Esther saved a nation, and perhaps you could save Christmas dinner. How did she do it? She believed that what made her unique was exactly what was needed. Out of love for her people, she was brave and honest. She did not wait for someone more important to make a difference, she understood the one who could make a change was her.

Photo Credit: Akira Deng on Unsplash

An American Advent: What Does Justice Have to Do with Advent?

Fighting for justice is the daily work of a mom of young kids.

While the word justice addresses big concerns such as hunger, poverty and racism, justice is also a concern at the Lego table. Years ago, the 19-month difference in my little boys’ ages nearly did me in, especially when Legos were involved! The more aggressive brother hoarded the Legos or disassembled his brother’s creation. Whatever each one had was never fair enough and the tantrums that erupted were Vesuvian. My job as a mom was to advocate for justice at the Lego table by asking questions of my two little boys:

  • Why can’t you at least let me shower before you fight?
  • But seriously, why are you so angry?
  • Can you tell your brother what you want?
  • How can you share what you have so the Lego table can be a fun place for both of you?

Justice is what happens when people work toward the same equitable goal. Justice is two little boys sharing Legos, even though it lasts only long enough for a mom to take a shower.

In America, justice is a touchy word. Currently, Americans are rather possessive of their notion of justice, applying the word only to their own political party – blaming the opposing party for threatening justice. But justice is not a partisan word, it is an Advent word.

The Narrative Lectionary reading for the first Sunday in Advent is spoken by the prophet whose name is pronounced more than one way. Habakkuk (HAB-ah-kuk or Hah-BAK-kuk) is advocating for justice. He is waiting for God to bring about equity for God’s people caught between the superpowers of the day: Babylon and Egypt. The future for God’s people is grim, so Habakkuk turns to God and says, “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen?”

This is the faithful cry of Americans today, waiting for justice. How long, Lord, will our nation cling to their political parties? How long will we stand for the news to be delivered without integrity, deepening the divide between neighbors? How long will everything that’s wrong be the fault of everyone but our own selves? Lord, how long?

Next week, I will share the story of someone who believed it was her responsibility to advocate for justice. It was not the responsibility of the political powers of the day, or even the more powerful gender. She believed it was her own work to advocate for justice, which changes everything.

This week, consider your own understanding of justice.

  • In a journal or a conversation with a person or the Lord, what would justice in America look like and how much does your own political preference shape your understanding of justice?
  • Turning back to the questions at the Lego table, but seriously, why are you so angry?
  • Can you tell your brother and sister in Christ who may disagree with you how you want justice to look?
  • How can you share what you have so the Lego table America can be a fun place for both of you?

Eventually God responds to Habakkuk. In 2:1-5, God’s response threatens anyone who depends on wealth and pride. Wealth and pride do not bring about justice. Justice requires as much giving as getting, which is very difficult to teach both at the Lego table and in America. May justice begin in our own nation with your own honest reflection.

Photo credit: Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Change (John 4:46-54)

(Photo by Martin Lostak on Unsplash)

(John 4:46-54 NRSV) 46Then [Jesus] came again to Cana in Galilee where he had changed the water into wine. Now there was a royal official whose son lay ill in Capernaum. 47When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. 48Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.” 49The official said to him, “Sir, come down before my little boy dies.” 50Jesus said to him, “Go; your son will live.” The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and started on his way. 51As he was going down, his slaves met him and told him that his child was alive. 52So he asked them the hour when he began to recover, and they said to him, “Yesterday at one in the afternoon the fever left him.” 53The father realized that this was the hour when Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” So he himself believed, along with his whole household. 54Now this was the second sign that Jesus did after coming from Judea to Galilee.

http://www.bibleoremus.org

Lately, I’ve taken to writing in the company of a lava lamp, a quirky re-gift that I scored a few years back in a white elephant gift exchange. The liquid is blue and the “lava” is a bright green, calling to mind the gurgling water in The Simpsons nearby radioactive lake with singular-eyed fish.

I love this lamp. In college, a similar lamp gently illuminated my dorm room, its mysterious liquid gracefully changing form again and again. One moment, four tiny balls of lava were bouncing around, the next, it had stretched into a piece of taffy, and then it became one enormous, satisfied glob.

Almost like a crystal ball, the lamp has given me assurance that change is an essential process to lead to the next thing. Change occurs only so that the another thing may mysteriously occur, so the lava can transform into something new.

This is true as Marcus and I talk through high school registration options for next year with our boys, reviewing forms labeled “sophomore” and “junior”. These new class labels preview changes that will occur so that our boys’ lives may continue to change, one year at a time. The changes are not as graceful as the mysterious liquid in my beloved lamp, (childhood is hard on everyone, if you recall) and yet they are mysterious changes that will transform our boys into something new.

Change is also Jesus’ thing. A few weeks ago, Jesus changed water into wine. Then, Jesus changed Nicodemus’ mind. Last week, he changed a woman from unacceptable to accepted. These changes are just as cool as the transforming lava substance in my lamp, and equally mysterious!

The story above is told when Jesus changed a sick and dying child into a healed and living child, which was sure nice of him. John’s gospel presents a mere three healing stories, far fewer than the other three gospels. In the other gospels, it is common to hear of Jesus changing sickness into health. John’s book is more frugal with these types of changes, and I find this to be refreshing. Sickness does not always change into health. Sickness can change into remission, can change into hospice, as is true this week for my dear friend, Terry. Change is a mysterious process, a sifting around of the lava so that a new transformation may occur.

For those raising kids, change is the air you breathe. Kids grow. They like you one day and dislike the next! They do the right thing and do the wrong thing and up and down and back and forth the changes go. I’m pinpointing the good news in this story not to the healing, but to the changing. Changing, as the lava lamp proclaims, is a steady promise. All things change and not always in the way we desire. But still they change.

For the father of the man in John’s gospel, his sorrow was changed into relief. For you and for me, all of our sorrows are finally changed into relief. Into hope. Into rejoicing. Jesus changes death into life, which is the change that holds us steady when the miracle we waited for does not come. When life unfolds unfairly and without much common sense.

What changes are you presented with in this season of your life? Are you walking your kids through big changes in their lives? Could you hold those changes alongside Jesus’ promise that change can look like four tiny balls changing into a piece of taffy changing into an enormous, satisfied glob because, in the end, change is Jesus’ mysterious, steady, and transforming good news.

When the Bucket Dropped (John 4:1-42)

(John 4:7, 10-15, 28, NRSV) 7A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” 10Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” 11The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? 12Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” 13Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 14but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” 15The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” [v. 16-27] 28Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city…

http://www.bible.oremus.org

These verses are tucked into the Samaritan woman at the well story that occupies most of chapter four. If it is not familiar, I encourage you to read John 4:1-42. The story begins when the woman went to the well to fill her bucket with water and it ends when the woman leaves the well with no water and no bucket. She does not, however, leave the scene emptyhanded. Between the beginning and the end, the woman has a conversation with Jesus.

What does a conversation with Jesus amount to? Enough to fill an empty bucket?

I recently remembered the month of January tends to be busy for me. Somehow, I’d forgotten! It is annual meeting season, nomination time, Lent planning, and this year, associate pastor call process. There have been many conversations with myself in my head. “Did I remember to…?” “When will I…?” “How would I like my coffee today?”

What conversations take place in your head when the days get busy? How do you sort through the questions? How do you listen for answers? The woman at the well, taking part in an actual conversation and not one confined to her busy mind, was deeply listening to Jesus. Jesus had something to offer, something she did not know she was looking for, something that required her to listen and let go.

Our minds are empty buckets we fill with so much conversation. “What will they think of me?” “What if I fail?” “Will they like me?” “Do they think I’m smart?” “Will I fit in?” These conversations unfold mostly in our heads. When we listen for the answers to these empty questions, we stop listening to Jesus. We hold tight to our genuine need to belong and be seen in the world, meanwhile Jesus’ part of the conversation goes unheard.

What does a conversation with Jesus amount to? Enough to convince you to unfurl your fingers and let go. Enough to loosen your grip on the empty questions and notice you are already tightly held in the grip of Christ’s love. When Jesus is finally heard in the conversations in your own head, there is at least a single moment when everything else falls away, your empty questions like her empty bucket. Do you belong? Are you seen? Yes and yes, answers Jesus.

I find the woman in this story to be an extraordinary teacher. She managed to listen to the words that mattered and to set aside the ones that did not. The odds were against her, if you pull back the curtain on the cultural norms of her day. She had every reason to hear only her side of the conversation, informed by a lifetime of bad experiences. Her circumstances had convinced her she belonged nowhere and was seen by nobody.

Was it that she listened so intently or that Jesus’ words were so piercing? Or both? What would it take for you to listen today for Jesus’ contribution to the busy conversation in your head? Perhaps I will give it a try.

I would love your thoughts on this story to shape the Prayers of the People this weekend. What empty questions and conversations fill your mind? Do you find it hard to hear Jesus’ part of the conversation? What do you hear when you do let him get a word in edgewise? You can post a comment on Facebook or email me at lewtonwriter@gmail.com to share your thoughts!

How to Have a Theological Discussion (John 3:1-21)

(John 3:1-21 NRSV) Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. 2He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” 3Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” 4Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” 5Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. 6What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ 8The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” 9Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” 10Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? 11“Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. 12If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? 13No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. 14And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. 17“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 18Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. 20For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. 21But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

www.bibleoremus.org

Of course, I am not Jesus. In no way, shape or form would I compare myself as a pastor to Jesus the rabbi and the guy who died for my sins. However. I must say that when a curious person approaches me with a theological question to kick off a theological discussion, I am so much gentler than this rabbi! As a pastor, I meet a curious person where they are in their theology and experience, wherever that happens to be.

Reading this text, Jesus comes across as abrasive to me, hardly receptive to the reality that a devoted Pharisee (in many ways Jesus’ archnemesis) has willingly approached him in order to learn from him! And Jesus seems to have little interest in meeting Nicodemus where he is.

Nicodemus first admits he cannot understand how Jesus does the signs he does, such as turning water into wine. Jesus shoots back at him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

What?????????

How did Nicodemus, who had gathered so much courage to find Jesus in the dark of night to escape the notice of his Pharisee friends, keep himself from turning around and sneaking out the backdoor? What kept him in the conversation that was sinking farther and farther from his theological understanding? Why is Jesus, in my perspective, so hard on this curious dude?

If you were to ask my one-line advice of how to change the world, it would be this: “More curiosity, less certainty.” Only when we are as courageous as Nicodemus to admit when we do not understand, do we become open vessels to be filled with new mercies.

Jesus uses a different approach to theological discussion that looks to me like confusion and criticism. And that reminds me of how theological discussions often unfold today. “I know this and therefore you are wrong.” “I am a democrat/republican/libertarian/white person/nonwhite person/old person/young person/impoverished person/rich person/a man/a woman/Protestant/Catholic/Evangelical/just so right and therefore why would I try to learn anything from you?”

These days, the discussion, if ever we can call the way we exchange theologies a discussion, is like trying to play tennis with a medicine ball. We do not get very far and we miss the whole point. We use the wrong equipment. Instead of curiosity, we use condemnation. Instead of the faithful Jewish way to discuss theology, which is centered in the questions, we cling to easy answers.

Nicodemus utters questions in this dialogue. Jesus gives answers. We do not know how the discussion ends, although we do know Nicodemus is sympathetic to Jesus’ ministry each of the two times he appears later in John’s Gospel (7:50-52, 19:38-42). Nicodemus was not put off by Jesus’ abrasiveness. We might surmise that Nicodemus, who came to Jesus in the dark, was awakened by his words: “those who do what is true come to the light…” Later on, it is in daylight that Nicodemus the Pharisee helped remove Jesus’ body from the cross in John 19:39. In the light, he cared for the one whose body did not survive the darkness.

One takeaway to this story may be that Jesus can have whatever kind of theological discussion he darn well chooses! It can be abrasive or gentle, dialogical or a lengthy monologue. While that works for Jesus, it will never work for humans in the 21st century.

  • How do we talk to each other about God?
  • What do you do when a friend with a contrasting view of the Bible insists hers is the only acceptable view?
  • How do we respond to those who imagine one exclusive translation or approach to the Scriptures? Or that Jesus would die only for certain people? Or that Jesus wants the best for only a particular group?

I would not do what Jesus did with Nicodemus, which would shut down a discussion. We can, however, trust that when light seeps into a discussion, there is wiggle room for the Holy Spirit. And maybe, months or even years down the line, as was true for Nicodemus, good will come from that discussion.

Tell me, have you ever been part of a theological discussion that went well?

Jesus Did What in the Temple?! Yep. (John 2:13-25)

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(John 2:13-25 NRSV) The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14 In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. 15 Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16 He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” 17 His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” 18 The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” 19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” 20 The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” 21 But he was speaking of the temple of his body. 22 After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

23 When he was in Jerusalem during the Passover festival, many believed in his name because they saw the signs that he was doing. 24 But Jesus on his part would not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people 25 and needed no one to testify about anyone; for he himself knew what was in everyone.

http://www.biblegateway.com

While evolving into a new parent, I was not prepared for the exhaustion of my own kids’ emotional outbursts. Sure, I have feelings, too! They just don’t burst out and transform my entire being like a mogwai splashed with water. Or like a volcano spewing hot lava.

Emotional outbursts are part of being a kid. It’s what they do. I understand. Kids burst with emotion when and where they feel it is safe for them to do so. An uncontainable flood of feelings regularly courses through their little bodies and it takes a lifetime to know where to put the sandbags.

I was not at all prepared for the emotional bursts! I am an introvert who grew up in a quiet house. There was no yelling or drama, only Norwegians. When my first child began to demonstrate emotional out bursting, I was confounded. To this day, with my youngest a nine-year old, these emotional outbursts become like a tiny hole pierced in a balloon, slowly draining energy.

Did God the Father feel something like this, watching Jesus burst with emotion in the temple? Was it draining for God the Father to witness the only Son of God release fury, disappointment, and who can say exactly which particular feelings?

There must be nothing wrong with an occasional emotional outburst, even for an adult, if Jesus became a hot mess and made such a ruckus in the temple! When we feel certain feelings, anger is the go-to for most humans, even Jesus. If we feel afraid, ashamed, embarrassed, angry, disappointed, intimidated, or lost, it is anger that wins out. When someone is angry with you, or you are the one who feels angry, slow down and pay attention to the actual feelings hiding behind the anger. Are you feeling left out? Betrayed? Jealous? Or maybe you are really tired and simply need a nap. That’s so human, too! Jesus took his share of naps.

This weekend, I am grateful a St. John member will be doing the preaching. (I’ve previewed the sermon and it is lovely!) Like last week, I welcome your ponderings and wisdom around this text. Leave a comment on my blog or Facebook, or email me at lewtonwriter@gmail.com. Your words this week will shape the Prayers of the People.

Tell me, can you relate to Jesus in this story? Or can you imagine being one of the people who witnessed his outburst? What is it like for you to be the one who has to deal with other people’s emotional outbursts? Where do you see emotional outbursts going on in the world today?

Jesus the Winemaker and Why That Can Be a Problem (John 2:1-11)

(Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash)

Today begins a new weekly practice of writing on the upcoming Narrative Lectionary text. I will be preaching more often in the months ahead, and so I encourage you to share your own thoughts and wonderings around each text, either in the Facebook comments or in an email to me at lewtonwriter@gmail.com. Preaching is more fun when a variety of voices speak into the preparation!

(John 2:1-11 NRSV) On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom 10 and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” 11 Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

(www.biblegateway.com)

When our kids were little and wondered about the beer Marcus and I were drinking and why they were not invited to have one, we explained we were having a “grown-up drink.” It seemed to satisfy their curiosity. My son who is nearing the late stages of his teenage years now thinks it’s funny. “How is your ‘grown-up’ drink,” he teases us. “Can we just call it ‘beer’ now?”

Drinking around kids might be a sensitive topic for you. Drinking at all might be a sensitive topic for you. If so, you have noticed, like I have, how much emphasis there is on drinking wine these days. Any home decor store will offer a variety of signs that suggest it’s wine time. I do enjoy a glass of wine with a meal. But not everyone does. Some of you have traumatic memories associated with alcohol. Some of you cannot drink it for various reasons.

And then Jesus goes ahead and makes roughly 900 bottles of wine! It is wildly outrageous, which is not uncommon for Jesus. Jesus is called hyperbolic because he does things to the extreme in order to prove a point.

It is also important to know that in John’s Gospel, Jesus performs signs and wonders. They are not referred to as miracles, but as signs. Signs point. Jesus’ signs point to something we need to know about him. What do we need to know about a guy in his early 30’s who can make an obscene amount of wine at a party? That he’s the Messiah? Honestly that would not be my first response. Instead, I would gather that this guy likes to party! He likes to have a good time and see that the people around him have a good time, too. He saves the best wine for last instead of pouring the impressive wine to make a good first impression. And he listens to his mother. Also important.

But the wine thing. This is a sticky text to preach when every congregation is filled with a variety of responses to alcohol, some extremely painful.

If we follow where the sign points, however, it is not to the wine. The sign Jesus performs at the wedding in Cana is not about the winemaking, but the jaw dropping. His sign pointed ahead, that this ordinary guy in his 30’s was no ordinary guy in his 30’s. Sure, he could make wine. But what else would he do? The wine miracle was remembered long enough for someone to write it into John’s gospel, but it is not Jesus’ most impressive transformation. Turning water into wine is utterly boring compared to turning death into life.

What do you notice in this story?

*It is common for preachers to need to craft a couple of sermons before they arrive at the one that needs to be preached on Sunday. Perhaps the greatest challenge to preaching is narrowing a sermon down to its single most important point. When we deliver a subpar sermon, which every preacher occasionally does, it is often because we did not have time or take time to keep turning the text around and peeling back the layers to discover the one thing God needs the preacher to proclaim.

We Live Here in 2022

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“Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce…But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” (Jeremiah 29:5&7)

     The two verses above need context. The surprising words are spoken by the prophet Jeremiah to God’s people who were displaced by the Babylonian army. Far from their homes in Jerusalem, they were now refugees in a foreign land: Babylon. The words are surprising because God’s people did not want to live in Babylon, they wanted to go home to their old, familiar routines.

   I have found myself returning to these verses ever since they showed up in the Narrative Lectionary in November. (If you happen to be a person who reads annual reports, and you know who you are, you will find these verses in mine!) We all wish to return to a pre-March 2020 world where we went in and out of gatherings without worry, and the medivac didn’t constantly traverse from Dickinson to a larger hospital day after day after day. I miss the days when vaccines weren’t so hard to discuss and masks were more about Halloween. I miss the faces of the folks in the congregation I serve parked in the same church pews week after week. I miss the old, familiar routines.

   And so did God’s people stuck in the unfamiliar land of Babylon! It comes as a surprise to me that Jeremiah did not tell God’s people to wait it out. He didn’t say to stay the course and cling to the future promise that they would return to their old, familiar routines. Nope. Jeremiah told them to settle in. Build houses in the unfamiliar land and move in. Plant a garden and wait for it to produce as you make this unfamiliar place your home.

   I can long for the old, familiar routine, or I can embrace these unfamiliar times because I live here now. I can spend time wishing for life to go back to pre-March 2020, or I can settle into this time I might not love and certainly do not understand. I do not understand the division and stubborn stances on both sides. I do not understand why a call to the common good cannot overcome the fences we have all built between one another, even within our own families. While it is true that fences create order in neighborhoods like mine with lots of dogs, fences can be dangerous for communities. Too many fences give us permission to disregard the welfare of the city. We can focus on our own fenced in area, make it beautiful, insulate ourselves in a comfy chair, and become indifferent to the needs of the people we cannot see over our fences.

    Jeremiah instructs God’s people to care for the welfare of the unfamiliar city in which they are now residents! This is strange. God is so caught up in neighborliness that God’s people are to care for their neighbors in a land in which they did not choose to live. They were not allowed to fence themselves in.

   Could this be a guiding verse for 2022? We did not choose to live in this time. We might not like how our society has responded to the pandemic. It is likely we all long for the old, familiar routines. But we live here, and we live here now. The needs of our neighbor matter as much today as they did when  Jeremiah preached these words in chapter 29. How might you peer over a fence and care for the welfare of your city? How might this be the year you settle into this time if only because your neighbor’s wellbeing matters more than your political opinions?

    Jeremiah, as far as we know, was not voted “most popular” in high school. He received no recognition for his community-building work. In fact, he likely had very few friends. But he knew the whole point of a city had to do with watching out for the welfare of the people, even in the time and place they did not choose. At our best, this is what churches do. We set aside our differences, “peace be with you”, and settle in for the sake of our neighbor. Here. Now.

The Woman’s Sneaky Golden Calf

(Photo by Luis Villasmil on Unsplash)

The Scripture text I’ll preach on this weekend is about a golden calf (not a fancy plate of veal). In a nutshell, the people who followed God were getting tired of waiting for God to do what they wanted (get them to the Promised Land). In their impatience, they constructed their own god and asked that god to do what they wanted.

To make this fancy-pants god, everyone took off their gold rings and earrings and the man in charge melted them. Somehow it came out of the fire shaped like a calf. (All of this is reminiscent of previous ways God’s people tried to do it all themselves without God’s help.)

The idea of worshipping a calf-shaped hunk of gold is preposterous. Why would they expect a shiny and ridiculous version of God to accomplish what only God can do?

Well…that’s where I begin to wonder. Does this strike a chord with you, the idea of getting impatient and then just doing it yourself? That’s where God’s people began to fumble. It was their impatience that bested them.

I am bubbling over with impatience these days. Impatient for worries about the coronavirus to fall away. Impatient for my kids to go hang out with people and not be stuck in our house so dang much. Impatient for my husband’s and my work to stop filling the margins of our lives quite so much. Impatience.

And in my impatience, I am aware now I just might be looking to the wrong, ridiculous things to get through this season. I’m doing too much and forgetting to be gentle on myself. (I bet you are, too). I’m taking shallow breaths and moving too fast from one thing to the next. (I bet you are, too). I feel guilty about not getting to all the people who need spiritual care instead of relying on the Holy Spirit to be there first. (Spiritual leaders, I bet you are, too.)

That shiny golden calf looks like the copious ways I’m trying to do this myself, instead of patiently waiting for God to show me what to do. Show me, God, perhaps I can wait for a moment.

Only a moment, though. I’m kind of impatient.