Category: Sermon Texts

Greetings and welcome to Corona Sabbath. This is one of the ways the church is endeavoring to offer spiritual support during these challenging days of COVID-19. We appreciate your feedback and suggestions.

In this summer series on the theme “Grounded” we turn the foundations of our faith. This post focuses on wonder and awe.

We listen to Psalm 19 verses 1-6 and a reading from astronaut Edgar Mitchell read by Colleen Coughenour.

Video from Colleen

Psalm 19 verses 1 through 6:

The heavens herald your glory, O God
and the skies display your handiwork.
Day after day they tell their story,
and night after night they reveal
the depth of their understanding.
Without speech, without words,
without even an audible voice,
their cry echoes through all the world,
and their message reaches the ends of the earth.
For in the heavens the sun has pitched a tent.
It comes forth with the grandeur of a wedding procession,
with the eagerness of an athlete ready to race.
It rises at one end of the sky
and travels to the other end,
and nothing escapes its warmth.

Next is a quotation from US astronaut Edgar Mitchell reflecting on seeing planet Earth from space for the first time:

Instead of an intellectual search, there was suddenly a very deep gut feeling that something was different. It occurred when looking at Earth and seeing this blue-and-white planet floating there, and knowing it was orbiting the Sun, seeing that Sun, seeing it set in the background of the very deep black and velvety cosmos, seeing – rather, knowing for sure – that there was a purposefulness of flow, of energy, of time, of space in the cosmos – that it was beyond man’s rational ability to understand, that suddenly there was a nonrational way of understanding that had been beyond my previous experience.

There seems to be more to the universe than random, chaotic, purposeless movement of a collection of molecular particles.

On the return trip home, gazing through 240,000 miles of space toward the stars and the planet from which I had come, I suddenly experienced the universe as intelligent, loving, harmonious.

Reflection from Kim on video

So, in church, when we are having church, in the regular style, pre Corona, we say lots of things. There are lots of words used. There are readings. Calls to worship. Hymns and songs and anthems with words. There are prayers. Readings from the Bible. Benedictions. There are announcements and conversations. And, of course, there is a sermon. There are lots and lots of words spoken and sung in church. We clearly have things that we want to say. That we are trying to communicate.

In the Psalm we heard, there is reference to the planets and space, the sun, resonating, and yet no word is heard:

Day after day they tell their story,
and night after night they reveal
the depth of their understanding.
Without speech, without words,
without even an audible voice,
their cry echoes through all the world,
and their message reaches the ends of the earth.

No words and yet their message is heard, conveyed to the ends of the Earth. But we are not balls of rock or gas floating through space. We are human beings with voices. And one of the defining characteristics of our species is language. So, we are meant to use words. But even with all of our words, can we say it all, clearly, so that it reaches the ends of the Earth?

You could say that we are talking so much in church because we are trying to convey, to capture, to express, what is really beyond words. We use lots of words trying to say what we want to communicate yet knowing that words cannot say it all. That what is going on is more than words can express. The problem is not the words. Not their inadequacy. It is that we as human creatures we have an awareness that there is that which exceeds our full comprehension and expression. The birth of a baby. Being present at the passing of a life. Heartbreaking grief. There can be an intensity – of feeling, of space, of awareness, of beauty, of sacrifice, of loss, of confusion, of mystery, of convergence. So many things are really beyond our ability to explain or fully comprehend. In the life of the spirit, in our religious life, we seek to be aware of these things while knowing that we cannot completely express or understand what we are experiencing.

Faith is about an awareness of the beyond. The beyond in ourselves, in others, in the world around us. It is an attempt to come to terms with what cannot be measured, displayed on a graph, or scientifically accounted for.

So, we use lots of words to try to say something about awe, wonder, and mystery. Knowing that we cannot capture it all, that our human experience and consciousness, that things of the spirit, go beyond words and numbers.

Just after the September 11 attacks, we went to a Florida orchestra concert. Stefan Sanderling was the conductor. I was interested in how that moment was going to be acknowledged at the concert. Would they play something special? Would there be some kind of extraordinary musical moment? Sanderling announced that there were times when the only fitting response was silence. And there was a prolonged period of silence. And then the concert began.

Even music. Even visual images. Cannot say it all. Yet much is experienced. With our words in church, we are pointing to what is beyond words. We are affirming that there is much more going on than just the mundane material transactions and interactions of our day to day lives. The universe is carrying on and we are created with the awareness that we do not comprehend it all.

We see that which is beyond words when we think about the power of nature on this planet. These recent storms, two in the Gulf at once. The wild fires in California. The derechos in the midwest. The virus that is ravaging the globe. There is awe, wonder, and mystery around these forces that are at work in the world around us breaking into our routine and our reality.

We can be stunned by the creativity of the human spirit. The beauty of the music created by the Florida Orchestra often leaves me in tears. What is it about a group of people showing up with their instruments and playing notes that so enchants my spirit? It’s beyond words. Awe. Wonder. Mystery.

We can also be left without words about things that are destructive, heinous, even evil. Recently as I learned of the killing of Dijon Kizzee – another black person killed by the police – I found myself left with a sense of awe and wonder and mystery. How is it that the police just keep doing it again and again and again – killing black people. Just shooting them down. Within minutes of an encounter. It leaves me in stunned awe. Speechless wonder. I cannot understand. Maybe we need to send police officers up in a rocket so that they can look back at the Earth like Edgar Mitchell and experience “the universe as intelligent, loving, harmonious.”

That’s what faith helps us to see, without the rocket ride. That we are living in a world that is good and that the experience of being alive cannot be fully explained or expressed. And that the awareness of the unknown, beyond words, makes us fully human, whole, and holy.

So, yes, I have just used a lot of words to remind us that Christianity, the way of Jesus, Love, involves cultivating the capacity of the human spirit to embrace awe, wonder, and mystery. Beyond words. Without all the answers. Amen.

(Click HERE if you wish to see the post containing the video of this text.)

Greetings and welcome to Corona Sabbath. This is one of the ways the church is endeavoring to offer spiritual support during these challenging days of COVID-19. We appreciate your feedback and suggestions.

In this summer series on the theme “Grounded” we turn the foundations of our faith. This post focuses on service and generosity.

We listen to Mathew 16:21-26 read by Earl Waters. In the traditional translation, Jesus tells his followers to take up their cross and follow me. This does not refer to a burden beyond our control like an act of nature or a random accident or contracting COVID-19. It is a reference to consciously choosing the path of service and self-giving.

Scripture video from Earl

From that time on, Jesus began to explain to the disciples that he must go to Jerusalem, to suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and religious scholars, and that he must be killed, and on the third day raised to life.

Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. “Never, Rabbi!” he said. “This will never happen to you!”

Jesus turned to Peter and said, “Get yourself behind me, you Satan! You are trying to make me stumble and fall. You’re setting your mind not on the things of God, but of mortals.”

Then Jesus said to the disciples, “If you wish to come after me, you must deny your very selves, take up the instrument of your own death and begin to follow in my footsteps.

“If you would save your life, you will lose it; but if you would lose your life for my sake, you will find it. What profit would you show if you gained the whole world but lost yourself? What can you offer in exchange for your very self?”

Reflection from Kim on video

When I started as pastor of Lakewood United Church of Christ in 1991, the church had a custom around baptism. When a child was baptized at the church, they were given a ‘cradle cross.’ This was a small wooden cross that was to be hung near the child’s bed as a reminder of their baptism and their connection to the church.

Then after one baptism, the parents returned the cross to the church. They said that the cross was an instrument of capital punishment. They would no sooner hang the cross in the child’s room than hang a likeness of ‘old sparky’ – the electric chair that was used in Florida for executions. After that, the church did not order anymore cradle crosses and no longer gave them out at baptisms.

Yes, the cross is an instrument of capital punishment. So why does Jesus, who loves us beyond measure, who is the incarnation of universal, unconditional Divine Love, who wants the best for us, instruct his dearest friends and followers to take up their cross? Why would he suggest that they risk death? Death at the hands of an oppressive government reserved for traitors and people who were perceived as a threat to the public? Death that was an excruciatingly painful public humiliation? Why would Jesus suggest that his followers take up their cross?

The heart of Christianity is love. Love for others, love for self, love for neighbors, love for enemies. Love that is expressed in commitment to the common good. Love expressed in acts of service, generosity, and self giving. The book of James puts it this way: “But act on this word – because if all you do is listen to it, you’re deceiving yourselves. . . . Pure, unspoiled religion, in the eyes of our Abba God, is this: coming to the aid of widows and orphans when they are in need, and keeping oneself uncontaminated by this world. . . Be assured then, that faith without works is as dead as a body without a spirit.” [James 1:22, 27, 2:26]

Jesus does not want us to be dead. He wants us to be alive. That’s why he tells us to take up our cross. True life, at its fullest and most joyful, is life spent in service to others. Our highest is good is marked by our generosity; the giving of ourselves as well as our time, talent, and treasure.

So, first we realize that each and every one of us needs to be lifted; needs to be brought to life, needs to be rescued from the numbing, life-sapping impulses of selfishness, self centeredness, and greed. Jesus saw our need as humans for meaning and purpose and belonging. And so he invites us, urges us, begs us, out of love, to take up our cross. To find our highest good by giving ourselves away. He knew that we would experience our greatest worth by helping others, investing ourselves in the wellbeing of the community. Without that, our lives would be hollow, empty, even tormented.

Karl Menninger, one of the premier psychiatrists of the 20th century, was once asked what action he would recommend if a person were to feel a nervous breakdown coming on: Lock up your house, go across the railroad tracks, and find someone in need and do something for him. Menninger is picking up on the teachings of Jesus and other spiritual teachers throughout human history.

The positive effects of the spiritual command to serve have also been verified by science. Studies show that helping others, practicing generosity, and volunteering have direct health benefits such as boosting the immune system, lowering blood pressure, and other positive physiological consequences. This learning has been shared by Norman Cousins and Dean Ornish. It is also documented in the book, The Healing Power of Doing Good: The Health and Spiritual Benefits of Helping Others by Allan Luks and Peggy Payne.

So we see that modern healing professionals are endorsing the teaching of Jesus, take up your cross. This basically amounts to LOVE. Don’t be controlled by fear. Give your life away. Because, as Jesus teaches, to find your life, you must lose it.

The beauty of this teaching is that it applies to everyone. No matter what your circumstances in life, whatever your condition, your status, your class, your education level, your income, every single person can take up their cross. In fact, Jesus, known for taking up his cross, was poor and owned almost nothing and had no financial portfolio. And he sets the pace for taking up his cross. For giving his life away for the good of others. For generosity and service.

Some of you know that our son, Sterling, is an artist in Los Angeles. This spring he was painting the famous California poppies near an urban homeless encampment. Each day he want to his spot to paint. One day he sent us this text:

Some homeless men just gave ME some change and cigarettes because they liked my painting. The opposite of how it usually works.

Sterling received those offerings with gratitude. And in so doing, he affirmed the capacity of the homeless people to be generous and giving. Like the widow’s mite. He validated the humanity of those who are often treated as less than human in our society.

Take up your cross.
Jesus ennobles everyone because everyone can serve in some way. Everyone can listen. Everyone can smile. Everyone can pray. Everyone has something to give to help another.

Take up your cross.
Realize all that you have been given and all that you are. Experience abundance.

Take up your cross.
Free yourself from the the bondage of selfishness and the tyranny of the self. Free yourself from the false construct of scarcity that is perpetuated by the society around us.

Take up your cross.
Experience your commonality with each and every human being because we all suffer and are all in need of comfort and solace from one another. Be enlivened by the connections borne of solidarity and compassion.

Take up your cross.
Be rescued from a small, constricted, paltry existence and experience the expansive life of love, joy, and freedom from fear.

If you hear of a church that does not ask the members to give, to serve, to contribute, to help others, the community, the world, then head the other way. This is not the life giving way of Jesus. This is not the way of joy and abundant life.

And I can say as a pastor for all the many times I have been involved with getting people to volunteer for some kind of ministry, to help the homeless, to advocate for more just policies, to cook a meal for someone in the church, to teach church school, to help with Operation Attack, whatever it is, people always say to me that they got far more out of it than they put into it. It was far more meaningful to them to have participated than the effort that was expended. I have heard that over and over and over again throughout 35 years of ministry. Thirty five years of inviting people to contribute their money to the church and other initiatives to transform society and the lives of those in need. And never have I heard, I’m sorry I gave away that money. No, what I’ve heard again and again is, I am so glad to give. I feel I am making a difference. Let me know what else I can do.

We know that when we reach out to others and engage in service or generosity of some kind, we are the ones who are blessed by the giving.

This is why Jesus tells us to take up our cross. He wants us to have a full life; brimming with joy and meaning and purpose and well-being and significant relationships with people. All the fruits of service and generosity that come from offering ourselves in service to others in whatever shape or form that may take. Amen.

As you listen to the music video featuring Zach Blair-Andrews, you are invited to notice the thoughts and feelings and that arise for you.

(Click HERE if you wish to see the post containing the video of this text.)

Greetings and welcome to Corona Sabbath. This is one of the ways the church is endeavoring to offer spiritual support during these challenging days of COVID-19. We appreciate your feedback and suggestions.

In this summer series on the theme “Grounded” we turn the foundations of our faith. This post focuses on peace.

We listen to the story of the Hebrew midwives found in Exodus 1:8-21 read by Sue Sherwood. This story takes place in Egypt. The new Pharaoh is distressed at how the Hebrew population is growing. He thinks that with increased numbers could come increased threat. So he makes the Hebrews slaves. Then he demands that the midwives kill the male Hebrew babies that are born. We hear about how 2 courageous women respond to this perilous situation.

Scripture video

A new Pharaoh – one who did not know Joseph – came to power in Egypt. Pharaoh said to the Egyptians, “Look at how powerful the Israelites have become, and how they outnumber us! We need to deal shrewdly with their increase, against a time of war when they might turn against us and join our enemy, and so escape out of the country.”

So they oppressed the Israelites with overseers who put them to forced labor; and with them they built the storage cities of Pitom and Ra-amses. Yet the more the Israelites were oppressed, the more they multiplied and burst forth, until the Egyptians dreaded the Israelites. So they made the Israelites utterly subservient with hard labor, brick-and-mortar work, and every kind of field work. The Egyptians were merciless in subjugating them with crushing labor.

Pharaoh spoke to the midwives of the Hebrews – one was Shiphrah, and the other Puah – and said, “When you assist the Hebrew women in childbirth, examine them on the birthing-stool. If the baby is a boy, kill it. If it is a girl, let it live.”

But the midwives were God-fearing women, and they ignored the Pharaoh’s instructions, and let the male babies live. So Pharaoh summoned the midwives and asked why they let the male babies live. The midwives responded, “These Hebrew women are different from Egyptian women; they are more robust, and deliver even before the midwife arrives.” God rewarded the midwives, and the people increased in numbers and in power. And since the midwives were God-fearing, God gave them families of their own.

Reflection from Kim

After hearing the reading from Exodus, you might be wondering why the story of the midwives was chosen for a reflection on the theme of peace. There are many other passages in the Bible that imaginatively offer visions of peace – peace for the individual, for the community, for Creation. But, of course, peace is peace, and it is everywhere, including within us. Awaiting our discovery. Awaiting our notice and attention. Awaiting our devotion. So, we’ll see that there is peace in the story of the midwives.

To me the story of the midwives is a reminder to take off our blinders, our blindfolds that hide our apathy and self-justification, and seize the peace that is available to us.

As the story of the midwives begins, a new administration has come into power in Egypt and things change. The Hebrews, immigrants who have been living peaceably within Egypt and contributing to the economy, are suddenly perceived as threatening enemies. We know how this works. Our current president said of Mexicans coming to the US: “They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.” So, the new regime in Egypt has it in for the Hebrews and oppresses them by forcing them into slavery to serve the Empire.

But it turns out that forced labor is not enough to subdue the Hebrews. They are still increasing in numbers. They are still strong. Still powerful. So the Pharaoh, a dictator, not benevolent, comes up with a strategy to definitively disempower the Hebrew people: Kill all of the male babies at birth. Period. So, the midwives are instructed to carry out the decree of the tyrannical leader. What will they do?

We are told that the midwives are God-fearing. Some commentators think they are Egyptian. Some think they are Hebrew. What we know from the story is that their commitment to life is what guides their behavior, whether they are Hebrew or Egyptian, or something else. Their calling is to bring forth life, to nurture life, to welcome life into the world. They are not death dealers. And even a threat to their own lives does not undermine their commitment to their fundamental humanity. Isn’t this what peace is really all about? Having a fundamental commitment, an inviolable commitment, to life? Isn’t peace about fostering and nurturing life, respecting life in ALL of its forms, including nature? Being one with the universe.

When we live fully and freely from this commitment to life, we know peace. In ourselves, in our communities, in the world, and with Creation.

The midwives were living in perilous times. And they were being coopted into the tyranny of the Empire. They did not accept the “banality of evil,” Hannah Arendt’s description of the way many of the German people acquiesced to Hitler and the Nazis. The midwives, in their own way, true to their humanity, defied the ultimate earthly authority that had power over them. A dictator who had called for the killing of all Hebrew babies will have no compunction about calling for the killing of two midwives.

These unlikely, marginal characters subvert the seemingly all powerful dictator, the administration, the regime, the Empire. It is a foreshadowing of the way of God throughout history.

Today, millions of people are degraded and enslaved in systems that strangle life. Millions of people who have lived off of the land have been driven from their land and lifestyle by multinational corporations, globalization, Neo liberalism, and empires like the US. The Black Lives Matter movement makes us see and remember how life for people of color in this country is subverted by governmental and economic systems and institutions. The COVID virus is exposing all of the biases and injustices in our society. Millions of victims of economic injustice and rampant legalized greed cry out for self determination and life. Mother Earth is under attack and cries out through all life forms, land forms, and water ways, to be liberated from the shackles of greed, apathy, and abuse.

How can we find peace? Where is there peace? Amidst so much overwhelming turmoil? Here we come back to the midwives. They did what they could do in their circumstance to stay true to their own humanity. And I think that points us to how we can know peace in our tumultuous times. Each of us, where ever we are in the current drama of power abuse and people abuse, can find peace by being true to our fullest, deepest humanity. We do this by respecting the sacredness of the humanity of other people, all life, and all that supports life.

Each and every day presents us with decisions and opportunities. Each and every day we take actions. We work. We shop. We watch. We buy. We consume. We play. We engage. We read. We talk. We eat. We write. We sleep. We drive. We listen. We live our days and nights. And constantly it is before us: Are we being true to our humanity? Are we living out our commitment to the life and well-being of all of Creation? Are we doing what we can do in our context to support life? What we find is that the more we are true to life, to Divine Love, the more we experience peace. When we do what we can do in our given context, when we are the loving people we are created to be, when we foster life, when we are true to our sacred selves, we find peace. Regardless of the circumstances around us.
The midwives did what they could do. They didn’t directly bring down Pharaoh. They didn’t dismantle the whole system of oppression. But they did what they could do. They played their part. They provided inspiration. And eventually, we are told that the purposes of God were fulfilled: the Hebrews escaped from slavery in Egypt and made their way to a new land where they could establish a society of compassion and justice.

Like the midwives, Jesus, too, shows us the way of peace. He, too, lived in an age of oppression and tyranny. His people were under the thumb not of the Egyptians but of the Romans. But the dynamic was similar. His people were treated like commodities, inputs, to be used to further the ends of the Roman Empire. There was no respect for the sacredness of life. Jesus, like Moses, comes to free people from tyranny. The tyranny of Caesar, the tyranny of Empire. The tyranny of oppression and greed for power and wealth. Jesus, like the midwives, is committed to life, in its fullness, for everyone and all of Creation.

Peace comes from seeking to live in harmony with all of life. It does not come from subduing others. Or from abusing power. Or from indulging greed and gluttony for wealth or power. Peace does not come from promoting the interests of some at the expense of others. It does not come from self indulgence. We experience peace when we are liberated not only from the tyranny of outside authorities but from the internal tyranny of a self-centered reality. We experience peace when we do what we can do to live from a commitment to Life. When we, like the midwives, do what we can to bring forth life, to nurture life, to welcome life into the world.

We are told in Exodus that the Hebrew women were “more robust,” they had their babies before the midwives could get to them. May we be more robust in our commitment to life and so that we may find greater peace. Amen.

(Click HERE if you wish to see the post containing the video of this text.)

Greetings and welcome to Corona Sabbath. This is one of the ways the church is endeavoring to offer spiritual support during these challenging days of COVID-19. We appreciate your feedback and suggestions.

In this summer series on the theme “Grounded” we turn the foundations of our faith. this post focuses on forgiveness.

One of the most beautiful stories of forgiveness in the Bible is the story of Joseph. It is a long saga found in Genesis chapters 37-50. For this Corona Sabbath post, Lakewood member Patti Cooksey was asked to write a summary of the story of Joseph. The story is read by Claire Stiles.

We also listen to Matthew 18:21-22, a teaching about forgiveness that is associated with Jesus.

Scripture video

Story of Joseph from Patti

Matthew 18:21-22

Peter came up and asked Jesus, “When a sister or brother wrongs me, how many times must I forgive? Seven times?”

“No,” Jesus replied, “not seven times; I tell you seventy times seven. . . . “

[pause]

Reflection from Kim

Forgive. 70 times 7. Here’s a graphic of what 70 times 7 looks like:

[Show picture.]

Forgive that many times? And the way it is presented in Matthew, you could be forgiving one person that many times, and maybe even for the same transgression. Four hundred and ninety times. Really?

My first reaction is that this is another example of hyperbole, a teaching tool, and a grand statement of the extreme ideal that none of us could ever really be expected to achieve. Sometimes it just seems that Jesus is setting the bar so high who could ever measure up? Who could be that forgiving, or kind, or compassionate, or generous, or understanding? Ok for Jesus, maybe, but hardly realistic for the rest of us.

Is the point here to give us one more thing to need forgiveness for? Forgive me for not being more forgiving. Sorry, God, I haven’t measured up – again. . .

I don’t think so. Here I think the story of Joseph sheds some light. Joseph has every reason to hate his family of origin. To want to do them harm, in retribution, out of vengeance, or simply to get even – justice. He has every justification. There is no reason he should want to help his biological family. Yet, when they come, not recognizing him, he recognizes them and he receives them, helps them, feeds them, forgives them.

All those years in Egypt, Joseph could have been cultivating not only grain for the famine, but his desire for getting even with his brothers who sold him off into slavery. He could have been plotting and waiting for the chance for payback. He could have carried that grudge, harbored that resentment, nursed that vendetta. But evidently, he chose to lay it down. Give it up. Release himself from that burden. Free himself from that hatred. When he sees his brothers, he forgives them. He shows no hesitation. And he is freed.

So in thinking about Jesus and the 70 times 7, maybe the idea here is not to set an unachievable standard but to encourage freedom from the burdens that come with harboring ill feelings, anger, and hostility. These things can be heavy burdens. They can sap energy, and love, and joy. Jesus loves us. He wants the best for us. He wants us to live and love fully and freely. And he knows that holding on to wrongs can get in the way of that. So, he is saying, toss it aside. Give it away. Let go of it. Free yourself from the burden. The word used in Matthew for forgiveness means to send or let off or away. Get rid of it. Create more room in your heart and your life for love and joy and meaningful relationships.

The truth is, all of us are in need of forgiveness in our lives. It is essential. As human beings, we are capable of wrong-doing, of harm, even of great evil. That is our nature. Individually and socially. We are also relational beings. We are meant to live together in community with others. That is how we experience our highest good and our greatest joy. So, with those two givens, it is inevitable that we are going to do things, intentionally or unintentionally, that cause harm to others, that lead to hurt and pain. This happens in our families, in church, in school, in the workplace, in wider society, and in international relations. Harm is caused. Wrong is done. And forgiveness is needed to restore right relationship. Whatever our political affiliation, our religious identity, whatever the hue of our skin, because we are human beings, we will be party to inflicting pain and harm to others in some way. So we must all cultivate the ability to forgive. Our capacity for doing harm must be exceeded by our capacity to forgive so that we can see our way forward in our relationships, taking responsibility as well as being authentic. This is the path to full life and joy.

The readings associated with this post image forgiveness as dry, barren, parched land, that has been drenched with rain and brought back to life. That is a beautiful image for the experience of forgiveness, given or received. It brings us back to life, to joy, to beauty, to goodness. We can flourish and bear fruit.

One of the things that I have found helpful in the process of forgiveness and letting go of bad feelings toward someone is to pray for the highest, good, the well being, the flourishing, of the one whom I need to forgive. Including myself. This helps in letting go of the negative thoughts and feelings. Clearing the way to love and joy.

Jesus wants our highest good. Forgive? Of course. How many times? Seventy times seven which is a way of saying there is no end to forgiveness. Whatever it takes. Because Jesus wants us to have full and abundant life. And whatever we are holding against ourselves or others, whatever others hold against us, is getting in the way of that. Release it all. Let it go. Let refreshing rains wash it all away.

In the opening reading of this post, there is the beautiful verse:

I am not here to pass judgement
or point the finger at anyone.
My name was written in the sand
as one who is forgiven.

I like this image of something written in the sand. We who live in Florida know well what happens to what is written in the sand. It washes away. It is gone. It disappears. This is a wonderful way to think of forgiveness and releasing our negative feelings and hurts and disappointments and failures. All that needs to be forgiven. Write it in the sand and let it be washed away. Maybe we will incorporate something like this into the spiritual life of our church: meeting at the beach, with sticks, to write in the sand and watch as the waves erase our wrongs, take away our burdens, cleanse us, and free us. A new beginning. With beautiful associations to baptism. Or maybe you will go to the beach on your own and engage in such a ritual for pursuing forgiveness.

Out of deepest love, out of the desire for our highest good and our well being, wanting us to flourish and take joy and delight in this life, Jesus begs us to forgive, 70 times 7, or more, so that we are free to live and love as he did. Amen.

Video and text –

As you listen to the music video featuring music from Hilton and the Doors Open to All installation by William, you are invited to notice the thoughts and feelings and that arise for you.

(Click HERE if you wish to see the post containing the video of this text.)

Greetings and welcome to Corona Sabbath. This is one of the ways the church is endeavoring to offer spiritual support during these challenging days of COVID-19. We appreciate your feedback and suggestions.

In this summer series on the theme “Grounded” we turn to one of the foundations of our faith – hope.

We listen to Genesis 21:8-21 read by Kay Rencken???. This is a portion of the story of Hagar. In the narrative, God has promised a child to Abraham and Sarah. They will have many ancestors. But years went by and no child arrived. So Sarah sent her handmaid, Hagar, to Abraham, and a child was born, Ishmael. Subsequently, Sarah herself had a child, Isaac. Family relations deteriorate and Sarah instructs Abraham to exile Hagar and Ishmael. We listen to a portion of that wrenching story. Hagar and Ishmael do survive and become the progenitors of a great people who eventually become associated with Islam.

Scripture video

Genesis 21:8-21

We begin by hearing about Isaac, the child of Abraham and Sarah.

The child grew, and on the day of weaning, Sarah and Abraham held a great feast. But Sarah noticed the child that Hagar the Egyptian had borne for Abraham, playing with her child Isaac. She demanded of Abraham, “Send Hagar and her child away! I will not have this child of my attendant share in Isaac’s inheritance.”

Abraham was greatly distressed by this because of his son Ishmael. But God said to Abraham, “Don’t be distressed about the child or about Hagar. Heed Sarah’s demands, for it is through Isaac that descendants will bear your name. As for the child of Hagar the Egyptian, I will make a great nation of him as well, since he is also your offspring.”

Early the next morning Abraham brought bread and a skin of water and gave it to Hagar. Then, placing the child on her back, he sent her away. She wandered off into the desert of Beersheba. When the skin of water was empty, she set the child under a bush, and sat down opposite him, about a bow-shot away. She said to herself, “Don’t let me see the child die!” and she began to wail and weep.

God heard the child crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven. “What is wrong, Hagar?” the angel asked. “Do not be afraid, for God has heard the child’s cry. Get up, lift up the child and hold his hand; for I will make of him a great nation.”

Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water. She went to it and filled the skin with water, and she gave the child a drink.

God was with the boy as he grew up. He lived in the desert and became a fine archer. He made his home in the desert of Paran, and his mother found a wife for him in Egypt.

[pause]

Reflection from Kim

When I hear the word ‘hope’ it brings to mind the line from poet Emily Dickinson – “Hope is the thing with feathers.” Featherweight – light. Not heavy hitting. Seemingly insignificant. Carrying small creatures through the sky on currents of air. Just feathers.

But hope, just a whisper of it, just a seemingly weightless pinion adrift, is what can help us to hold on. Take another breath. Make it another moment. Get through.

The story of Hagar and Ishmael is wrought with the desperation of survival. I would even say that they have abandoned all hope. In this story, it is God that has the hope. The hope for Hagar and Ishmael. The hope for their future. The hope that they will survive. And not only survive, but eventually flourish. And they do.

When life is going along fairly smoothly, we might not think much about hope. Life is good. We don’t have to have aspirations for something else, something different, something more. We aren’t focussed on how to make it through when the song we are hearing is a happy tune.

Hope is important when things have derailed. When the bottom has dropped out. When things are crashing down around us. Like during a pandemic.

President Obama is known for his book, The Audacity of Hope. How was he feeling about hope after the 2016 election? An article in the November 28, 2016 issue of The New Yorker examines Obama’s response to the election. Apparently Obama told staffers in the Oval Office, “‘A lot of you are young and this is your first rodeo. For some of you, all you’ve ever known is winning. But the older people here, we have known loss. And this stings. This hurts.’ He went on, it’s easy to be hopeful when things are going well, but when you need to be hopeful is when things are at their worst.” [“It Happened Here,” David Remnick, The New Yorker, 11/28/2016]

The worst. That’s when we really need hope. Just a feather’s worth. And if we can’t muster it, then it will come to us – from a loved one, a friend, a stranger, an article, a book, an inner insight, a message from nature, a scripture passage. Somehow, when we truly need it most, hope will find us. In the desolate desert. In the garden of Gethsemane. Separated from a loved one dying of COVID 19. Hope is the thing with feathers and it will somehow find its way to us gliding and soaring. It will take us beyond. Giving us a fresh vista. Amen.

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