Unexpected Places

August 15, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Psalm 139: 1-10; Mark 6:1-13[1]

I haven’t been camping in several years. The last time we went camping had not been quite a disaster. It had already been a rough few days. My family went tent camping down at Starved Rock State Park. It looked from the weather reports as though the rain would pass through Wisconsin and bypass Illinois. And while we were there, it did. It had been raining there quite a bit, however, as evidenced by the Illinois River flowing over the visitor center parking lot. And that meant that it was wet, and hot, and buggy.

I was miserable, and did not want to be there. And I let everyone know it. But we made it through the first night, and managed to get going in the morning. The boys had walking sticks they’d acquired at Vacation Bible School the week before, so they were excited to hit the trail. We marched along, seeing beautiful scenes of the river, the rocks, and the trees. Eventually we made it by trail to the Visitor Center, which was not itself flooded. And there was air conditioning, and food, and cold water.

With directions now in hand, we found the way to get down into the valleys to see the waterfalls. We even got the kids to stand still long enough for some nice pictures. After that we hiked out and went for ice cream. But back at the campsite, Felicia got a call that her sister had been in a car accident. While she was processing that, I noticed that what had seemed to be mosquito bites on the boys were swelling up really big. We quickly ate our dinner and headed for the hospital.

With assurances from the ER doc that they were not dying, just having an allergic reaction, we decided that I had better pack up the campsite so we could head home. I left them at the hospital, and as I packed up, the alerts began to come in about tornados hitting just north of us. Felicia and the boys caught a cab to a motel, and I finished packing up. I made it to the motel just before the heavy rain started.

Nice story, Dave, but what’s your point? Well, the title of this sermon is “Unexpected Places.” Where do we find God? In the church sanctuary during worship, I hope. Maybe we find God at the lake shore, on the mountain top, or at some camp or retreat center. The writer of Psalm 139 speaks of God being found in heaven, in Sheol, even at the farthest limits of the sea. “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence?” God can be found everywhere, of course. But I think we have to be looking in order to find God, especially in unexpected places.

I certainly wasn’t looking for God in the heat and humidity at Starved Rock. But I appreciated the Visitor Center with its air conditioning that much more. I was delighted by the beauty of the waterfalls. But over the next few days, as I shared the photo of my family taken there with friends I hadn’t seen in a long time, I gained a much greater enjoyment. Mosquito bites, nope, not looking for God there. But the ER trip gave us time to reconsider the value of staying another night in the tent. The next morning was much more pleasant than it might have been.

When Jesus came to his hometown, the people of Nazareth were looking for God. It was the sabbath, and they were gathered in the synagogue. But when God appeared in the unexpected place, in this carpenter, the son of Mary, they weren’t looking there. “He could do no deed of power there,” Mark says, perhaps because of their unbelief. Maybe they were so used to seeking God in the familiar places that to find God in the unexpected was just too much to wrap their heads around.

This event is followed by the first major act of delegation by Jesus. He sends them out, the twelve, into the villages. He warns them that some people are not looking for God in the unexpected arrival of these fishermen-become-disciples, and might treat them like we do when certain people come knocking unexpectedly on our doors. Jesus sent them anyway, because he knew that in unexpected ways they would find welcome, and be empowered to share their message and bring healing.

Some years ago, I was at dinner one evening with friends, colleagues in ministry, two women and two other men. We had been talking about issues of privilege and equality, about who has power handed to them and who has to fight for it. I was running late for a meeting and I wasn’t going to be able to finish my steak. So, I turned to the guys and said, “Do you want the rest of my steak?” My friend Nicole asked, “What about me?” As I turned red and covered my face with my hand, we all burst into laughter. I am thankful for friends who are able to point out my faults in love. We don’t often think of God making us laugh, but the Spirit was there at the table with us.

We live in a time when we all recognize the church is in decline. Membership and attendance numbers are going down, in small town congregations like ours, and even in the fundamentalist mega-churches. COVID restrictions have forced us to worship in virtual spaces. And yet, at General Synod, the national gathering of the UCC, we celebrated 7 new UCC churches that have been started since the last UCC General Synod in 2019.

At the virtual Synod event a few weeks ago, I attended a workshop hosted by the Back Bay Mission in Biloxi, Mississippi. Do you remember Hurricane Katrina? We heard a lot about New Orleans, but do you remember hearing anything about Biloxi, MS? It was like a nuclear bomb went off there. There are neighborhoods where there is still nothing left. Members of the Back Bay Mission struggled to respond even as their own homes and headquarters were washed away. It took time, but they were able to begin recovery efforts. With help from the UCC Disaster Ministries, Back Bay Mission is still a vital resource for the Gulf coast region. The speaker at my workshop said “UCC Disaster Ministries sticks around. They are not the first ones there, but they are the last to leave.” Everyone loves New Orleans, but down the coast in hard-hit Biloxi, God is still showing up.

This past weekend I travelled to Colorado for a planned vacation with my sister’s family. My dad has not been doing well for the past several months, and had been in the hospital a week previously. We all visited him and my mom before heading to the mountains. We visited Leadville, where my wife grew up, and rode the old train line up the mountain. It was beautiful, warm and sunny, and we all had a nice time. And it was good to have time together as a family.

On Tuesday, as we packed up to leave, my mom called to tell me my dad had passed away in the night. It wasn’t a surprise, just sad. My wife and I had talked with our children the night before about what was coming, so they would understand. We had been able to say goodbye, and had been together doing things he would have loved. God’s grace was with us, even far from home.

We find God where we look for God, and though it may not occur to us in the moment, God is often found most strikingly in the unexpected places. This was news to most people in ancient times, just as it is news to us today. That is why we still find the cross to be a strange symbol for our faith. It was, after all, a symbol of Roman Imperial power. It was the tool of torture and death for those who dared rebel against Rome. Who could have expected to see God in such a horrible device?

It was, and still is, quite unexpected to find God in the frailty of human life. In the person of Jesus, we unexpectedly find that God can not only identify with our weakness, but has been tested in every way, just as we have. The good news is that God is to be found in the unexpected places. When the people are conquered over and over again, and even sent into exile, they are not abandoned. When the Christ is nailed to the cross, God is still there.

There is no place on earth, in history, in your life where God cannot be found. Even at the uttermost end, even when hope seems lost forever, “even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.” Expect God in the most unexpected places. And, my friends, be prepared. God might use you and me to bring the good news. We are the unexpected places.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

Banquets of Empire

July 11, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Mark 6:6, 14-29[1]

What an awful story! Why this one? This tale of the beheading of John the Baptist offers several things for us to think about. First, this story is a bit of foreshadowing. Just as John preached a different way of living, was arrested, and then executed; Jesus also preached a different way of living, and will ultimately be arrested and executed as well. In a way, Mark is preparing the reader for what is to come.

This passage also foreshadows the answers that the disciples will give when Jesus asks them “Who do people say that I am?”[2] They answer: John the Baptizer, Elijah, or one of the ancient prophets. King Herod concludes that it must be that “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”[3] When Peter answers, later in Mark’s gospel, he declares “You are the Messiah.”[4]

Second, this story illustrates a contrast between the ways of wealth and power, in that time and in ours, and the alternative way of Jesus. As the Rev. Michael Anthony Howard wrote in a reflection on this text, “Where the banquets of empire are feasts of fear, scarcity, and death, the followers of Jesus partake in the feast [of] love, abundance, and life!”[5]

This story has a convoluted beginning. Essentially, King Herod had married his brother’s wife, Herodias. John pointed out to Herod that this was not lawful, according to Leviticus 20:21. John, being a prophet, probably said this in a public setting, embarrassing Herod and Herodias. This causes Herodias to want to kill him, but Herod doesn’t because he was a public figure known as a holy man, and because “he liked to listen to him.”[6] So, Herod only had him arrested.

This brings us up to the banquet, a lavish birthday celebration for King Herod, with all the most important, wealthy, and powerful people attending. A bit of background might be helpful here.

The ruling class of Judea held power because of their submission to Roman rule. Roman power, exerted through the threat of violence, pervaded every aspect of society. The local elites curried favor from Rome through an extensive building campaign begun under Herod the Great. After his death, Herod Antipas, the King Herod in this story, funded a massive twenty-year, empire-city-building tribute to Rome.[7] Through taxes, forced labor, and the ever-present threat of violence, Herod held more power than any besides the Roman officials themselves.

At the same time, Herod’s position was weak. At any moment, Rome’s displeasure with him could find Herod replaced. The courtiers, officers, and leaders of Galilee knew this. They may have shown public deference to the king, but each would be watching for their chance to knock him down and take his place. Herod also seems easily manipulated by his wife, Herodias, who keeps her eyes open for any opportunity. He had reason to fear rebellion, too, which was one reason he had not executed John.

Into the midst of the banquet dances the child of Herod and Herodias. “She pleased Herod and his guests,”[8] and, in a soft-hearted gesture, Herod promises to give her anything she might ask for. He even, foolishly, swears to give her even half of his kingdom. When the girl consults her mother, Herodias sees her moment to strike. The child, in front of a room of powerful, greedy men, asks for “the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”[9]

The king is stuck. He has made a bold promise in front of these powerful people who will use any misstep against him. He must fulfill his daughter’s wish, or be seen as weak. He gives the order, out of his own fear of losing power, or losing face in front of the powerful, and the violence of the state is unleashed.

This scene is, unfortunately, not unusual. It was, and is, common for the powerful to fear the loss of power, and to feel the need to show others just how powerful they are. Those who rule through violence find reasons to use that violence; and it is those who try to hold power to account, the prophets, the oppressed, the innocent, the poor, women, and children who are most often on the receiving end of that violence.

This is the world into which Jesus walks, bringing a very different message, and a different kind of banquet. When people gather around Jesus, there is healing, learning, compassion. The people who gather to eat with Jesus, it’s not the wealthy and powerful but sinners, some fishermen, and crowds of ordinary folk. The women around Jesus are not there to serve and entertain, but to be equal partners in bringing the realm of God to life. As the author Rachel Held Evans once wrote, “The church is God saying, ‘I’m throwing a banquet, and all these mismatched, messed up people are invited. Here, have some wine.”[10]

When Jesus held a banquet, it wasn’t the local elites who gathered to dine. “As he sat at dinner in Levi’s house, many tax collectors and sinners were also sitting with Jesus and his disciples.”[11] When asked why he would eat with such people, Jesus said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”[12]

He became so popular so quickly that while trying to eat a meal in Nazareth, “the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat.” The meal would have to wait, there was teaching and healing to be done.

A great crowd followed him to a deserted place, and stayed listening to him well into the evening. The disciples thought to send the crowd away to find something to eat, but Jesus answered them, “You give them something to eat.”[13] With five loaves and two fish, all ate and were filled.

The disciples, humble as they were, did seek for power. Once as they walked along, they argued with one another about who was the greatest. Rather than show of his power and strength, Jesus taught them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”[14] Jesus didn’t come to rule like a king, but rather to rule in the hearts of the people.

At the end, when he knew the end was near, they gathered in an upper room. Jesus didn’t offer them wealth or power; he didn’t demand the death of his enemies. Instead, he gave them himself, willingly going to his fate, becoming so much more than a provincial ruler in an empire built on violence.

While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, “Take; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. He said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Truly I tell you, I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”[15]

We choose the kind of banquets we attend. We can dine on wealth and power, using violence and fear to control others. We can serve a meal of greed on a platter of death. We can participate in the banquets of empire. But Jesus offers a different way.

Let us dine on service and self-sacrifice. Let us use kindness and love, not to force, but to guide others to a better way of life. Let us serve a meal of gratitude for all that God has provided that gives life. Let us eat at Christ’s table, welcoming everyone, healing each other’s wounds, binding up broken hearts, and joining in the covenant of love.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Mark 8:27-30.

[3] Mark 6:16.

[4] Mark 8:29.

[5] Michael Anthony Howard, “Weekly Seeds: The Banquet of God (Lavishing Grace)” for Sunday, July 11, 2021 on https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/the-banquet-of-god-lavishing-grace/.

[6] Mark 6:20.

[7] Richard A. Horsley, Jesus and Empire: The Kingdom of God and the New World Disorder (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 32-33.

[8] Mark 6:22.

[9] Mark 6:25.

[10] Rachel Held Evans, Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2015).

[11] Mark 2:15.

[12] Mark 2:17.

[13] Mark 6:37.

[14] Mark 9:35.

[15] Mark 14:22-25.